OS friends, This letter leads up to a veritable Pandora's Box of a question.  I know my OS friends to be thoughtful people with many creative ideas.  Maybe you can help me answer the middle schoolers' difficult question.

Dear Parents of Middle Schoolers in My First Sunday S… Read full post »

In honor of Valentine’s Day, I went through my favorite art books to offer you a few romantic images from great art of the world. Warning or maybe advertisement:  Some of these images are a little adult.  Who says art history is boring?

Persian Fresco at Isfahan,… Read full post »

 

 

 

 

 

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           Recently Liz Emrich posted about her son’s diagnosis of Asperger’s syndrome.  Other Osers, including Elizabeth McDonald, have also posted about their experiences with Asperger's.

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This week, I found this photo on Facebook.  It’s like something out of a romantic Hollywood movie, two young lovers in front of the Trevi Fountain.  In Rome, no less.

Except that’s my son there!

My husband and I paid for that trip!

 … Read full post »

Voicegal, Mungular, Monte and others have posted about moments when God "snuck up" on them.  For whatever it's worth, here's my story (with a twist): 

I walked into the silent meetinghouse.  The dark wood floor creaked under my feet.  I looked around, searching for/… Read full post »

When I was a little girl, my best friend’s mother took my friend and me to the Whitney Museum in New York to see an exhibit of works by Andrew Wyeth.  In my elementary school I was considered one of the “artists” and had won a large art contest.  I was/… Read full post »

“Time to get up!” I said to my sleepy 7^th grader.

“No, it isn’t,” he groaned.

But as I poured myself come coffee, I heard the shower start and knew he was up. 

Now my older boys are away in college so there’s only one sleepyhea… Read full post »

My mother reports she’s still “floating,” and "euphoric."  My brother and sister and I all feel the same way.

My friends ask me with concerned faces, “How was the funeral?”    Knowing that this past weekend my family gathered at our… Read full post »

“I’m starving,” said my husband from the driver’s seat.  It was New Year’s Day.  We were on the highway about an hour from home, running some errands to replenish supplies depleted by the holidays.

I wasn’t hungry but I had to go to the bathroom, so… Read full post »

My father loved Christmas.  He loved the food, the memories, the parties, the wine.  He loved getting us all dressed up for a Christmas card photo – taken in early November so it could be photocopied and printed in time for Christmas.  He had his own meticulous method for… Read full post »

The “Wide Open” Call was for a great love story.  I was trying to choose a story to tell.  And then the phone rang, and I realized that a great love story was unfolding right in front of me.

Last Friday, the day after Thanksgiving, the nursing home staff found my 91-y… Read full post »

We took the train from Agra, India to Sawai Modhopur: my husband, two of my three sons, our guide, and I.  

A jeep carried us from the station to our hotel in Ranthambore National Park, one of India’s renowned Tiger Preserves.  As we ent… Read full post »

“Get me Michelle Obama’s phone number!” said my 91-year-old father from his wheelchair, apparently mistaking the aide at his nursing center for a secretary.   I’m sure in his mind he was back at the office where he practiced law for over 40 years.

The nursing c… Read full post »

Just came upon this scene in my family room.  Evidently he's been up all night reading Open Salon. Read full post »

One day recently I saw this on the bulletin board at the local gym.  “That’s my husband!” I told the other exercisers.  My husband, Bart, gym rat.  (Please note the “Flexing at 50” T-shirt featuring Bart’s own face on a muscle-man body./… Read full post »

Despite the windy, rain-drenched night, the elementary school gym is filled to capacity.  Buzzing with excitement, parents, teachers, friends and alumni take their seats.  I sit among them, just another school parent, just another of Armand’s many friends.  We&rsquo/… Read full post »

My father slouches in his wheelchair, a clean white hankerchief peeking from the pocket of his shirt, today’s New York Times in his hands, folded the same way he has folded it every day that I can remember, subway-style.

He sees me.  I watch delight open his face, crinkling t… Read full post »

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My son G., sixth-grade graduate, pops open the wallpaper paste and plucks the seal from the applicator.  Here we are, in our smallest room, which was a guest room when my husband and I moved here with our two sons.  The glue stains are still visible where, years later, in… Read full post »