One of the reasons we’re so scared when our children leave the nest is because we remember our own flight.
The pure joy of leaving the straps and bindings of our parents’ rules is still nestled deep in the happy place of our subconscious. We savor the memories of tossing out their warnings and racing into wildness – a place we weren’t allowed before.
Which brings me to my freshman year in college.
I hadn’t realized I’d been bound and gagged in a parental hold until, suddenly, miraculously, on a weekend morning in early September, I was set free.
It took me weeks to loosen up, but day after day I discovered a lightness of being that I’d never experienced during my first 18 years of life.
And then, my first college party. Continue reading
I already know! he defiantly says
Filling me with “mother-of-teenager” dread
After one hour of instructed driver’s ed
My boy’s natural coordination goes to his head.
Six months already? I berate myself for being a spoiled brat.
I’m lucky I can have my teeth cleaned every six months. Many don’t have the means to take care of their teeth. And God knows, if a tooth begins to hurt, if that dull ache creeps up in the middle of a busy day, and hour by hour that ache goes deeper until it becomes a searing thunderous pain down into the root of your gum – the root of your being – then, then you’ll wish you’d had your teeth cleaned and checked every six months.
So, I brush away my grumpiness that I have to drive 20 minutes on a beautiful Friday afternoon to sit for an hour in a padded black seat – a seat that reminds me a bit about old movies with patients strapped in institutional chairs.
As I sit in the dental chair, my mind wanders to the movie Marathon Man and Dustin Hoffman and the quote “Is it safe?” – the scariest dental movie in history. Continue reading
This time, I choose to not answer the phone call.
I’ve had 13 of them, one every morning, at precisely 10:59 a.m.
The number does not identify the caller, so it’s no one I know. 277-453-6657.
When I take the call 13 days ago, I figure it’s a solicitation, but then again, it could be from Hollywood, accepting the screenplay to my latest book.
But instead, a deep, husky male voice proclaims: “I know what you did.”
Then, a click and silence. Continue reading
Apparently, my skin is not nearly thick enough.
In my world, skin shouldn’t have to be thick. I slather it with lotions to make it soft, sunburn-free, and smooth. I’ve never encountered a lotion claiming to:
“THICKEN YOUR SKIN! Lavender or Rose Scent. Never again let a mean word seep in.”
No, I rub lavender body lotion day and night to keep skin from drying out in the NE weather.
Apparently, that lotion has also thinned my skin.
At least, that’s my first guess when I go on the Amazon page for my book The Right Wrong Man and read – gasp – a bad review.
My stomach turns into a turnip, my eyes moisten, and my soul shrivels into a sniveling snail.
How could this reader be so…so… mean? Continue reading