Your father was traveling through Cuba when I discovered I was pregnant with you. For days, I let this strange, new idea roll through my mind and out onto my tongue: mother. I am a mother. And for those few
F O U R!
The other night at dinner, you sat by my side — not necessarily a coveted position these days because you tend to use your neighbor more for a napkin than a conversation partner  — but
Burke, this evening at 10:36 you turned eight. Even now, as I listen to your unrestrained laughter with friends in the other room, I can scarcely believe it. Eight years. Just. Like. That. Most mornings,
turning six | a gift of experience
Blythe, this last year as I watched you shoot out of your lingering baby chubs and try to bite apples with missing front teeth, I realized too soon you’ll be learning to drive and talking
    “For like a shaft, clear and cold, the thought pierced him that in the end the Shadow was only a small and passing thing: there was light and high beauty for ever beyond its
a letter about family meals: a mother’s legacy
Mom, You blew into our daily lives for a brief three days last week to help Kristen and me collect pieces of our days and time. With each visit, I try to take more of
Or “phree,” as you might say, holding your three fingers high in the air, as if to warn the world before you, “I’m coming!” And the world ought to prepare, Olive, for what’s stirring up
Seven years, Burke? Could it really be seven years since I held your new six pound frame, so fragile and unknown to me? Is it that possible for seven years to now stand between me
happy 35th birthday, love.
It really is a wonderful life. And we all wanted to make sure you remembered, so this is how we celebrated you this year on your 35th. You also received many written words of life