Shell House

The house should have meant nothing to me. She shouldn't have mattered to me at all. It wasn't like I had any real connection to her, unless you count the hours I spent looking at the real estate listing photos during the eighteen months she was for sale. But I think we can all agree … Continue reading Shell House

Coming home

Thinking of Maine today, and of souvenirs, in the truest sense of the word.

QuiverVoice

It is the last day of vacation. “I’m bad with transitions,” I announce to my family, as if that is actually a thing.

I say it confidently, hoping that they will think I am speaking with the diagnostic authority of an old nurse, which they know better than to question. I hope that it will sound like something that people–preferably the smart and sensitive artist-people–are, instead of what it really is: a poor and totally unofficial, completely made-up-by-the-non-nursing-me excuse for the sulky moodiness that overtakes me in times of change, and at the end of seasons and school years, visits and vacations.

It’s unreasonable, and besides that, it’s kind of selfish. It’s downright immature. I know. I know I should just be grateful. I knowthat it will be great to sleep in our own beds, that fall is also beautiful, that the routine of the school year will…

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How do I Quarantine with Thee?

How do I quarantine with thee? Let me count the ways.I quarantine with thee in the depth and breadth and height of this house,The square footage of which is not nearly enoughFor feeling out of (your) sight when you need somethingThough you are consistently unable to see that I am on the phone.For the ends … Continue reading How do I Quarantine with Thee?

Longing for the light

I wrote this last year, when Christmas shopping was still a thing, and teachers taught at schools. I couldn't have known then--none of us could--how much more true it would be this year. Distances and longing, indeed. I was browsing in a new store a couple of weeks ago. Strains of an old and favorite … Continue reading Longing for the light

There will be feasting, and dancing

There’s a place in which I find myself often and though I guess technically, anyone is allowed to go there, when I look around, I see mostly middle aged moms and elderly grandmas with me. Getting misty-eyed for no apparent reason. Welling up at the drop of a hat. It’s gotten harder to pinpoint the … Continue reading There will be feasting, and dancing

The Day When Nothing Happened (2020 edition)

I first wrote and published this a few years ago, but it has never been more relevant than it is this year, this Holy Saturday, in the waiting. It's Holy Saturday today, a day when nothing happened. It gets lost amid all the flashier days of Holy Week but it is the part that, especially … Continue reading The Day When Nothing Happened (2020 edition)

Holey Thursday

I have become more than a little lax in recent years about attending all of the rituals of the Easter holy days. This is particularly true if they happen to conflict, as Holy Thursday foot washing services often do, with spring break activities that I consider, in my increasingly rag-tag belief system, to also be … Continue reading Holey Thursday

Ordinary Time

It turned out to be at its coming in and not at its leaving when March was actually the lamb; it left us yesterday with the lion, and lions, it turns out, can kill you. Even the warning of the soothsayer to "Beware the ides of March" seems more foreboding when you think about what … Continue reading Ordinary Time

How Do I Quarantine With Thee?

How do I quarantine with thee? Let me count the ways.I quarantine with thee in the depth and breadth and height of this house,The square footage of which is not nearly enoughFor feeling out of (your) sight when you need somethingThough you are consistently unable to see that I am on the phone.For the ends … Continue reading How Do I Quarantine With Thee?

Quarantine, Day 5

Trying a schedule today, using information from Days 1-4 8:15 AM Drag self from bed, in shirt worn yesterday + pajama pants 8:20-11:00 AM Drink coffee and scroll Facebook mindlessly. Consider extensive cleaning and knitting projects that could be completed during this time, as well as individual sports that could be mastered and languages that … Continue reading Quarantine, Day 5

Siren song

The photo is from 1992. But I haven't been able to stop thinking about it since yesterday morning, since I heard the news of the tornado. I knew exactly what I was looking for when I started in on the faux-leather-library bindings of the photo albums to look for the photo, though not which yellow-paged … Continue reading Siren song

Longing for the light

I wrote this last year, when Christmas shopping was still a thing and teachers taught at schools. So much has changed. I couldn't have known then--none of us could--how much more true and real the distances and longings and general not-ok-ness would be this year. But the story itself has always been about exactly that. … Continue reading Longing for the light

Field notes from the Empty Nest, vol. 1

Nearly all of my birds took off at the same time this summer, which is I guess how it generally goes for the actual mother birds, though they are underrepresented on the mommy blogs, having so rarely written about it. This is a damn shame. It would have helped to have read on Facebook that … Continue reading Field notes from the Empty Nest, vol. 1

Lucky 13

Thirteen years ago this time of year, I was spending much of my days bawling while bald, begging and bargaining with God for my life and to see my kids grow up. To get my youngest, who was five at the time, to adulthood, or at least to an age where she would for sure … Continue reading Lucky 13

The girl and her mom at graduation

It was both an honor and a pleasure to speak to the graduates and their moms at the Notre Dame Prep Mother-Daughter brunch this morning! Girls  - and moms -  it's true: "you're gonna be great!" Well, here we are, ladies. It is so good to be with all of you, graduates and moms, in … Continue reading The girl and her mom at graduation

Never Get a Dog: A Lifetime of Reasons Why

It starts with the puppies, and the puppies are cute,  I will give you that. But they take all of your time, and you have to take over as, of all things, the mom: feeding them, loving them, teaching them how to do everything. I say this even thought I know that your puppy may, in … Continue reading Never Get a Dog: A Lifetime of Reasons Why

Holy Saturdays

It's Holy Saturday today, a day when nothing happened. It gets lost amid all the flashier days of Holy Week but it is the part that I relate to the most. Palm Sunday looked like so much fun, didn't it? All pomp and circumstance, and weren't they lucky to have such perfect weather? The Facebook … Continue reading Holy Saturdays

Notre Dame

It was nothing short of heartbreaking to hear that Notre Dame de Paris was on fire, and nothing short of devastating to watch it burn. Its gorgeous stained-glass glory shattered in the heat, its strong, and its tall spire broke like a soggy ice cream cone before falling into the flames. Watching the church come … Continue reading Notre Dame

Mothershucker

It was an impossibly springlike February day when I found myself walking the beach, and then found her. Both beauty and new friends often come to us this way I think: in unlikely circumstances, unexpected. When we are thinking about other things, and totally not looking. She might be an oyster shell; I really don't … Continue reading Mothershucker

Driven

It is impossible to separate the memories of her early life from the car. More specifically, it is impossible to separate anything of the childhood of our family's "baby" from the minivan in which most of it took place. She had arrived into our family long after the other three, long past the tiny sedan … Continue reading Driven

Not ok….and yet

There are so many things not ok in our world today, this day, Christmas Eve. There are big, public things that just about everyone knows, things that so many of us are just worried sick about. There are small, private things too, things in our family that are not ok. Things that hardly anyone and … Continue reading Not ok….and yet

I’m not Santa anymore

I have lost my job. I only just realized this today. It happened so gradually that I didn't even notice the signs, though I should have. Like many who work in the same position for a long time, I'd become good at it, and took a lot of pride in my work. It had become … Continue reading I’m not Santa anymore

Door Number One

Advent, the season of watchful waiting, begins today. Not in the official liturgical kind of way, which I think must start at church this Sunday, but in the childish kind of way. The one that begins with that first colorful and numbered cardboard door, opening the way to Christmas. The Christmas season kicked off, when … Continue reading Door Number One

A Tribe of Boy Moms

It was such an honor to speak to the Loyola Mothers' Club at the Harvest Pot Luck Dinner last night. For all who so generously opened their hearts to my words and asked if they could have them online, here they are, with my humble thanks. And, as always, Go Dons, Go Musketeers, and Go … Continue reading A Tribe of Boy Moms

5 Things You Might Not Know about #MBC

How is it that breast cancer, in spite of all the pink, can still become Metastatic Breast Cancer (MBC), and can still "spread," "come back," and take too many lives? Here are 5 things you may not know. Breast cancer can be a fugitive. After a diagnosis of breast cancer, local therapy like surgery and … Continue reading 5 Things You Might Not Know about #MBC

A new stage in breast cancer awareness

It’s October again. I know this not from the calendar, or the pumpkins. I had not yet noticed the leaves beginning change, or the days ending earlier. But I know with certainty that it is October because I am a breast cancer survivor, and everywhere I look, everything, it seems, is pink. October, as just … Continue reading A new stage in breast cancer awareness

Holding hands

My dad was not good at all things, but he had been born good at the things I most wanted to be good at, which were horses and music and art. It was uncanny, everyone said while I was growing up, how much I looked like my dad. And because I did not yet understand the … Continue reading Holding hands

Coffee/grounds/for divorce

It – that is to say, the Evidence - didn’t look suspicious or out of place when I first saw it. Because I thought that everything was fine, that we were fine, I saw only a take-out coffee in a paper cup sitting on my kitchen island. I didn’t see betrayal. I – naively, I realize now - just figured it had belonged to me.

My loves, my life

The baby was just hours old, but he was, as all babies are, a marvel and a miracle, all wrapped up in a striped cotton blanket. In the rare moments that he opened his impossibly dark newborn eyes to the world he saw, staring back at him, two youthful faces squinting in an expression equal … Continue reading My loves, my life

Today in Annapolis

It was just a small town when I was growing up, less touristy, less suburban than it is now. The City Dock was just that—there was no Ego Alley, no ego involved—and its marine residents were not yachts or fancy sailboats then, but working boats in from fishing and oystering, their wares sold by local … Continue reading Today in Annapolis

It’s not political; it’s primal

I saw a thing once about elephant moms, and how they comfort each other when something has happened to one of the calves of the herd. The grieving mother trumpets out to the others, who continue to trumpet out the message, often for days, sometimes for much longer than the experts would expect. Meanwhile, the … Continue reading It’s not political; it’s primal

The golden hour

The school year ended quietly at my house. It was a tough year coming to a close, on an unseasonably cool and cloudy day. A cold and broken Hallelujah. Thank you GOD, I think, I move the early-alarm button back one click to the "off" position, we made it. It's ovah. It's not all the … Continue reading The golden hour

The last words: 52/52

A flat brown package arrived at my door the other day. I had no idea what it could be. I hadn't ordered anything. It must be a birthday present, I thought, and I brightened, wondering gleefully what it might be and who might have sent it. A thing about getting older that is both terrific … Continue reading The last words: 52/52

Road to the White Blouse

"Hang on!" I yell from upstairs, even though my family is ready to leave, and in the car, which is packed for the airport and behind schedule. "I just have to change my shirt real quick." Even my daughters, who are more astute than their father and brothers in these matters, will detect no appreciable … Continue reading Road to the White Blouse

Portrait of the mom at graduation

I do not know why Commencement speakers bother giving speeches to the graduates. They are mostly not listening. The Young Adults Formerly Known As Our Children arrive at this day and at the stage proud, and celebratory, relieved and optimistic. They are happy to be with each other and—at least until somewhat later in the … Continue reading Portrait of the mom at graduation

Past the horizon

I must have once known more than their last names: Hudson, Columbus, Magellan, Verrazzano. Surely once I knew all and not just some of their first names: where they started out, what they discovered, the names of some of their boats. But I have forgotten most all of that now. I am only even reminded … Continue reading Past the horizon

Showing up, empty-handed

Honestly, you guys, it's awfully late in the day, late in the week, and oh-so late in the year-long #52for52 project to be trying to come up with anything brilliant and new. It is my own damn fault. I know this. I haven't been writing enough, haven't bothered to turn on the tap and let … Continue reading Showing up, empty-handed

Mary

It doesn't feel like spring to most of us this year, but the calendar, stubborn and rigid as it is, insists that it is upon us, that we are nearly to May. And if you were ever a little girl in Catholic school, May was also a month in which you might have hoped to … Continue reading Mary

The mom is not in the movie

My son pulled out of our driveway seven weeks ago, a dark-haired beauty at his side, the long journey ahead eclipsed only by the longer one behind him. It wasn't for college that he left; it's been years since he left for that, and some fewer since he came back home, sheepskin in hand, the … Continue reading The mom is not in the movie

Scars as beauty

“We must see all scars as beauty. Okay? This will be our secret. Because take it from me, a scar does not form on the dying. A scar means, 'I survived'.”  - Chris Cleave, Little Bee It was Thanksgiving Day, and the turkey was nearly done. I was outfitted for the task at hand, which … Continue reading Scars as beauty

Holy Saturdays

It's Holy Saturday today, a day when nothing happened. It gets lost amid all the flashier days of Holy Week but it is the part that I relate to the most. Palm Sunday looked like so much fun, didn't it? All pomp and circumstance, and weren't they lucky to have such perfect weather? The Facebook … Continue reading Holy Saturdays

Spring snow (or, My life as a Hygge-not)

It is the second day of spring, a season for which, year after year, I fall hard and fast in love. But the only thing falling hard and fast today is the snow. Even the 10-day forecast looks dismal, in spite of the cheery delivery of the pregnant meteorologist who somehow still looks gorgeous on TV. Bitterly, I … Continue reading Spring snow (or, My life as a Hygge-not)

The stillness of the stone

“There’s something about the stillness of the stone,” my friend had said, seeming to understand immediately my stammering explanation of why we’d bought the old place. She was just the sort of New Age friend who would say such a thing, so I ought not have been surprised. I was though, just the same, surprised and pleased … Continue reading The stillness of the stone

Promises, promises

The lady behind the jewelry store counter had, quite suddenly, grown still. She'd been, until now, in constant motion, moving back and forth between me and the velvet box at her side, its rows upon rows of sizing rings resting in velvet pockets. We'd been busy trying the sizing rings on my left hand, one … Continue reading Promises, promises

Stories and small things

Two of these murders – Sean’s and Sebastian’s – remain unsolved. Reposting this today, for them.

QuiverVoice

Some of the stories will really get to you.

They’ll get to you through your television if the stories are interesting, or surprising in some way, and especially if the murder victims are wealthy or white. If there is someone there to notice, to mourn, to tell the TV people the stories of how the dead lived or died, in a way that will sound interesting to cable customers in the enormous and mostly-suburban Baltimore County, which manages to fully encircle Baltimore City without ever fully embracing it. In those cases, their stories will be told and if you’re anything like me – mostly ignoring the always-awful news, just trying to keep your head low and take in a Modern Family on a Wednesday night – it’s only then, when the stories get to you, that you’ll pay attention.

I am not proud of this. I am just telling you…

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The Struggle Bus

My grown up kids take city buses all the time. I know nothing of the routes and schedules they know by heart, of how safe or dangerous it is for them. Of the mistakes they could make and perhaps sometimes do, of where they get off, of how they pay their fare. Lately, though, a … Continue reading The Struggle Bus

A letter to the baby of the family

We need to have a talk. It’s about something important. It’s about who your parents are. You've noticed, I'm sure, that sometimes I treat you differently than your older siblings. Well, there’s a reason for that. You're old enough now, and it’s time we talked about it. You have a different mom than the other … Continue reading A letter to the baby of the family

BELOVED MINIVAN DIES, FAMILY REMEMBERS

BALTIMORE, MD (February 9, 2018) Minivan Thompson has died, having lost a lengthy and courageous battle with the Maryland Vehicle Emissions Inspection Program. She was 14 years and 181,584 miles old. A 2005 Town & Country whose green color was enigmatically called "Magnesium" by the Chrysler Corporation, Minnie was born in Fairway, Kansas, a suburb of … Continue reading BELOVED MINIVAN DIES, FAMILY REMEMBERS

Wavy glass

I am an old house person. To clarify, it is the house is in this sentence is old, not the person. It's not that I'm not an old person; I absolutely am, as evidenced—and rather unkindly harped upon on a daily basis, I might add—by the magnifying mirror I had installed in my bathroom when I was … Continue reading Wavy glass

College for the caboose

We're on a college visit for the caboose. If this sounds fun, exciting, or even mildly interesting, let me remind you that I am in my fourth round of this game, one that began a lifetime ago, in 2007. The three oldest kids were closer in age, and we did college visits and applications in … Continue reading College for the caboose