It is the sixth day since you crossed the rainbow bridge. It never occurred to me you would go on this adventure so soon. I imagined us growing into senior years together. Your slick, incredibly shiny black coat would slowly show the gray hairs of time’s passage. I inspected you often scouting for the changes. Only three hairs on the spot above your left brow. There was one, and then this past year two more arrived. You were barely five. I would have continued bragging rights to your youthfulness. Most people assumed you were a puppy because of your prance and curiosity.
Our peaceful spot.
You and me buddy. Bonded in a way as no other dog has ever touched my heart. Girl was special, as was Rosie. And long ago my Smudge. Yet you, and only you knew my soul. No matter what I was going through in life, you always stood by me. Your brown eyes filling me so deeply with your love. You heard my less than charitable rants over what I thought were important at the time. You patiently listened, head cocked just so, deciphering the words you knew from our time together. Your body wags to let me know, Read the rest of this entry
What if I change course to pursue a lifestyle of fun, learning and writing?
Since moving to Baltimore last fall, I spent time just being, what I always craved when I had communications jobs where I had prestige yet no time to simply be. I’d be lying if I said these have been carefree months of lollygagging and leisure. The hamster wheel of “what am I going to do to earn my keep” spins relentlessly… Read the rest of this entry
Mark D’Agostino, my T, is a man who loves simple joys— family, friends, his bicycle, naps, Red Sox, an icy craft beer and church chicken barbecues. He isn’t a fancy guy, preferring jeans and sneakers to a spiffy suit and wing tips. And he definitely doesn’t like hoopla around him, especially for his birthday. Consider this the un-birthday post,T darling.
Enjoying the ride!
One of the best things about T is how he views life: don’t get worked up about things you can’t control—economy, terrorism, global warming. Do try to live lightly and find as much joy as you can, by taking care of the people around you, and giving your all to the task right in front of you.
By T’s example, we who share his last name have learned to avoid “piling”—reciting the litany of woes and things we don’t think are working out the way we want: work, life, money, people. His sage advice is to appreciate and focus on the things that are working : a sunny day, Read the rest of this entry
“Mommy loves the breeze on her knees. And sweet peas. I love Mommy.” –Adam, circa 1993
Little Momma 1963
I always knew I wanted to be a mom. Every Christmas Santa would bring me a new baby that I would love up every day with walks, diapers, bottles, naps, playtime, baths. I would dress my babies from my mother’s stash of our old baby clothes. Mom nurtured this passion in me—she knitted me baby blankets, brought home preemie diapers for my babies from her work; she was a nurse on the labor & delivery ward at Hepburn Hospital for ions. Many a lucky baby was born under her loving care. Mom LOVED babies, and I got this gene from her.
As I grew up, I continued to dream of my own real life family. Tops on my list in a husband was a man who valued children. One who would eagerly love the joys of raising great people from the first breath. Who would show them how to live, love and have fun. T is the best Dad ever! Not just from my seat, but from the ones who matter most—the Boinkers.
When I found out I was pregnant with twins, I was ecstatic. I read Read the rest of this entry