My cousin Johnny, who turned 40 yesterday, lies in an extended care facility in western Massachusetts. He has been there for sixteen years, languishing in a coma, more specifically a persistent vegetative state. The year John was born, May 14 fell on Mother’s Day. What landed Johnny in this exclusive club of unfortunates? Car accident, of course. Statistics alone would probably tell you that. Late on a snowy night, in early February, Johnny dashed into his car upon receiving an invitation to earn some extra money. “The first four guys to show up will get to plow.” The race was on. The …

Not long ago, while picking up my nine-year-old daughter from a play date, I found myself standing in the kitchen of her friend’s house, writing a check for one thing or another, the Girl Scouts, soccer or PTA. As I placed the check on the table, my daughter’s little friend picked it up, read it, then asked: “Why is your last name different from Christina’s?” “Well,” I responded, happy to elucidate the options available to modern women. “When a woman gets married, she has a choice concerning her last name. She can choose to take her husband’s name, to keep her own name, or to somehow …

The weather for the first part of April vacation was, if you recall, simply summer-like. As the thermometer inched upward, the week ahead loomed with painfully little to do; many families had already left town. On the spur of the moment, I decided to pack up the kids and head to our favorite beach in Rhode Island for a quick overnight. My kids were more excited for the hotel pool and hot tub than for a romp on the beach and splash in the ocean. We spent a lovely afternoon playing by the seaside, ate a fresh fish and chips dinner outdoors, and by evening the kids were eager to hit the pool …

As a native Rhode Islander, I grew up spending a lot of time by the ocean.  Because archetypal vacations exceeded our family’s budget, my mother was determined to get us to a beach on a weekly basis. As a result of her commitment to this goal, I spent many summer afternoons riding waves at Newport Beach, in the Narragansett area, and at Horseneck Beach in nearby Westport, Massachusetts. It was during these years that I gained a full and absolute respect for the power of the ocean. Many would think that someone with a lot of ocean experience might be inured to its lethal potential. For me, the…

When my kids were much, much younger, they were what my friend Kristen used to wryly refer to as “mommy centered.” Mommy-centered children yearn to have the mom nearby. It didn’t matter if my husband, Kevin, and I chose to adopt a “child centered” philosophy toward raising them. No, by placing me front and center in their lives, they had obviated that particular parenting question.I remember once boarding the 73 bus in Waverley Square, with the tiniest of my brood nestled in a baby carrier and holding a hand each of the two toddlers. We were heading into Harvard Square to meet Kevin for a …

This week marks a full year that words I have written (perhaps as many as 43,000, but who’s counting?) have appeared in this online space. To commemorate this anniversary of Tuesday morning offerings, I thought I would answer some questions (that I am frequently asked) about my experiences as a Patch columnist. Here goes. Q: What were your initial thoughts when asked to write a weekly column in Patch? A: Honestly, my first thoughts were along the lines of – I’ll write anything that doesn’t fall under the rubric of Meeting Minutes. And: I really hope this is a paid position. Q: Which writers …

(Last week, I had the good fortune to attend a writing workshop, entitled 'Writing for Everyone,' affiliated with the Amherst Writers and Artists. The woman leading the workshop presented us with a poem to read, then asked us to write about a memory, whether taken from life or an invented fiction, in the space of 15 minutes. The text below is more or less what I wrote. But of course, it didn’t take 15 minutes to write, it took 40 years.)   Every year around this time, the same murky memories begin to surface in my mind. This particular set of memories dates back to a distant April, in the …

Like all of you, my life tends toward the hectic. It seems rather commonplace to acknowledge that we struggle with too much to do and too little time in which to do it all. To make matters worse, not only is the onslaught of requirements relentless, but the standards set for us are ridiculously high. My own particular juggling act includes balancing the demands of five part-time jobs, three kids – who themselves may be just a wee bit overextended – a house, a yard, two old cars, volunteer duties and a husband who is self-employed and also volunteers about 60 hours-a-month to a certain town …

G. B. Shaw once wrote: “All autobiographies are lies. I do not mean unconscious, unintentional lies; I mean deliberate lies. No man is bad enough to tell the truth himself during his lifetime, involving, as it must, the truth about his family and friends and colleagues. And no man is good enough to tell the truth in a document which he suppresses until there is nobody left alive to contradict him.” Perhaps an odd way to lead in to Hemingway, but thoughts about truth and fiction regarding Hemingway – and about writing in general – have been crowding my mind since I recently finished a book of …

If I remember correctly, according to Raymond Moody's book “Life After Life” – I read it so long ago it feels like another lifetime itself – many people who have near-death experiences report experiencing the same series of special sensations. First, there’s a floating feeling. This is especially true in cases of drowning. This “oceanic feeling” occurs when the victim of an automobile accident, for example, finds herself disembodied, hovering weightlessly above the wreckage, looking down placidly at the scene of carnage as if a mere spectator. In the moments after my own mother died, I …

Karl Pillemer is a gerontologist at Cornell University.  He has spent the past five years sitting down and talking with hundreds of older Americans, most of them between the ages of 75 and 100. This was not idle conversation that he engaged in. On the contrary. Dr. Pillemer set out to preserve the wisdom and capture the kernels of advice concerning what these individuals have learned about work, marriage, and parenting. In his book “30 Lessons for Living: Tried and True Advice From the Wisest Americans,” Dr. Pillemer shares the lessons these folks learned throughout their lives and, in doing …

While watching the Academy Awards on Sunday evening, I was delighted to see that Oprah Winfrey had been selected to win an honorary Oscar, the Jean Hersholt Humanitarian Award. This prestigious award is typically bestowed on a person whose humanitarian efforts have brought credit to the motion picture industry. Past recent recipients include Sidney Poitier, Robert Redford and Lauren Bacall. But it’s not the award I want to talk about here. In fact, I’ve already forgotten who else was honored alongside Oprah the other night. No, what I noticed in seeing Oprah tearfully accept her honorary …

At the end of the academic year, eighth grade students at the middle school will present their writing portfolios to their families. Each portfolio is prefaced with a letter from someone who knows the student well. The letter is supposed to express who the student is as a person, at this point in his/her life. My eighth grader, Benjamin, asked me to write his letter. I’ve included it below. I’m sharing this with you because it’s rare in life to have an opportunity to say a few nice words about someone we love, and I hope it sparks something for you and yours. Dear Benjamin,  It’s true that as…

Let’s start this week with a one-question, multiple-choice quiz. In a recent publication of The New York Times Magazine, Viggo Mortensen waxes poetically, and a bit sententiously, about his earnest desire to: a. someday win an Oscar, b. live forever, c. meet his biggest fan in Belmont – that would be me – or d. reprise the role of the dashing Aragorn in the yet to be created movie, The Reign of the King of Gondor? Much to my chagrin, the answer is neither c. nor d. but rather, b. Yes, to live forever. Viggo, in speaking about his mortality, said: “I know I’m not going to get to all the places…

The 21st century phrase “helicopter parenting” was coined several years back to bring attention to a specific type of parenting style. Helicopter parenting refers, of course, to parents who hover around their children and are forever smoothing things over for their kids socially, academically and on the playing fields.  They tend to stand close by with antibacterial soap dispensers at the ready, and the trunk filled with extra water, snacks, sun block and sweatshirts – just in case, because – you never know. For their babies, they purchase kneepads, all-organic baby food and Baby Mozart …

It’s easy to forget, living where we do, that times are still very tough out there for a lot of people. I was reminded of this several times last week. At the beginning of the week, I heard from a friend – I’ll call her Cheryl – who is (was) a stay-at-home mother of three sons. She and her family used to rent a second-floor apartment next door to us. Our kids had a lot of fun playing together in the neighborhood and Cheryl and I passed many hours chatting while we supervised the kids and watched out for cars. Eventually, the house next door changed owners and the rent went up. Cheryl tried …

When many of us moms (and dads, I suppose) first became conscious of wanting to have children and become parents, we often had very concrete images in our minds.  We still return to those images even as the years pass. For some, these images are focused on playing a game of catch or kicking a soccer ball around in the backyard. For others, it’s about the inviolable bonds of unconditional love that flow from parent to child and from child to parent. Some look forward to guiding their children through new experiences, including travel to enriching and/or exciting places. For many of us, it’s …

Oddly enough, I own a Louisville Slugger. As I write these words, it leans against the head of my bed, where it has leaned for almost two decades. Ostensibly it's there, I guess, so I have something with which to clobber an intruder unconscious. Something to hand him, more like, so he can beat me to a pulp, steal my meager possessions and run off with the kids. Admittedly, it’s a lousy defense plan, based on an unlikely premise since running off with my kids evokes The Ransom of Red Chief, but I digress. Still, there the bat remains, collecting dust against the headboard. Upon further thought…

For most of my life, I have been vehemently opposed to the death penalty.  It simply never made sense to me for all the reasons you’ve heard before. For starters, there is very little data to support that the death penalty serves as a deterrent to heinous crimes. Then there is the question of vengeance (“an eye for an eye”), which I would argue has no place in a system of justice. Clearly, DNA testing and advancements in science have indicated that innocent people have, in fact, been put to death.  Discrimination is another reason to oppose the death penalty. Most defendants who face the …

In one of my many lives, I am a portrait/event photographer. I have taken pictures of families, graduating students, Bat Mitzvahs, weddings, and sports events. In May, I will be having a show of some of this art at a local art center.  (More on that as it gets closer.) What is worrying me today is that I have to submit an “Artist’s Statement” for this event, and it’s been a struggle. It turns out that the only thing less pleasant than reading an artist statement is attempting to write a decent artist statement. It’s ridiculously challenging to put into words why one is moved to create art or …