In honor of my mother’s 91st birthday, a reflection on laundry. For most of my mother, Maxine’s childhood is a mystery. We could never get my mom to talk much about growing up in Quincy, Illinois. She was a depression-era baby born in 1930 and didn’t enjoy dwelling on any tale of difficulty or pain. Most of us conclude her silence meant a difficult time. However, Mom was quite ready to tell us about her…
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This past summer, I received a thoughtful card and photos from Hawaii. As soon as I saw the return address, I knew the sender, but I had never met the sender. It was the return address, CECOSC, that helped me recognize the card contained a remembrance. I was part of that same group when Gary and I lived in Hawaii over twenty-five years ago. CECOSC stands for Civil Engineer Corps Officer’s Spouse Club. People I…
1 CommentIt was a lovely summer day. Grandkids were enjoying the pool. The two-year-old grandgirl was intensely absorbed in playing with her school bus and play figures on our screened front porch while her mother and I stood nearby engrossed in conversation. Our talk was disrupted by our little girl saying in a clear voice, “frog.” Immediately, we looked at each other and chuckled, “How cute.” We knew the baby was saying the word frog because…
Leave a CommentI am one of 12 children. I remember when I was in high school my mom just got plain fed up with all that we were demanding of her so she made a sign. She attached her hand-made sign to a dowel and whenever we approached she raised the sign. The sign had three lines written on it: I want I need Buy me All 3 lines were crossed out. This was Mom’s declaration that…
1 CommentHere in the United States, there is much excitement for “returning to normal” from the months of the pandemic. In New York City, Broadway Shows open in September. Across the country most schools are returning to in-person classes. Before your calendar gets refilled, I invite you to a refresh. Join me for a pause to establish and renew daily practices of life-giving rhythms. This course is a small cohort that will seek to provide clarity…
1 CommentMy brother Jim’s mother died when he was a toddler. His life was topsy-turvy. Jim describes his teen years as stealing cigarettes from our parent’s room, sneaking off with his friends to drink alcohol, and getting into trouble with school. Jim joined the Air Force. At the risk that further misconduct involving illegal drugs would result in a bad conduct discharge, my father flew down to Texas, where Jim was stationed, and appealed to Jim’s…
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