The Beauty of Innuendo
V I do not know which to prefer, The beauty of inflections Or the beauty of innuendoes, The blackbird whistling Or just after. …
Investor, 1978-2014
When Camila was a girl, she fell in love with horses. She had the plastic pink and purple horses, the realistic molds with long manes and…
Getting Rid of My Books
How many things do we keep “for our children”? How many of the multiple multitude of things – our first toy, our grade school report card,…
Not Losing Myself
Last night, our son Richard sent one of those internet quote-fests: a long strand of clips and quotes culled from a television series, this one focused on…
My Safe Place
When Camila was a girl, she often drew stories, simple narratives about a girl who had a dog or two friends or a love of dance.…
A Choice I Didn’t Make
I’m on a train staring at an ad for M.D. Anderson Cancer Center. That’s where the Seattle doctors briefly considered sending Camila after her relapse. I don’t…
How to Help Myself
A couple of weeks ago, I began thinking to myself, “I’m ready to work again.” Then I thought, “I want to work again.” Once, I even…
Being Broken
During my walk with my dog today, we came upon someone else who was walking a dog, as we often do. I made polite conversation as we rounded the corner, but…
Finding My Survival Story
I have learned first hand that everyone in the circle has two stories to tell: the sad, hard story of their son’s or daughter’s death and…
Choosing My Traditions
When I was a girl, I would read a lot and one of the things I remember reading about were the traditions associated with loss. One that…
A Compassionate Friend 