“Mirror Mirror on the wall, I’m my mother after all.”
Mom helping me dress wedding day 1982
It happened just the other day when I went into the downstairs bath to get a tissue. I looked into the mirror as is my habit and I saw her. My mother staring back at me. It wasn’t the first time I’ve seen traces of her in my smile or my jowls. Yet this time her entire face was looking at me through my eyes.
At 56, I look like my memory’s version of my mother at the same age. You know, the one that shows up in the reflection during the unguarded moments when you’re thinking you really should skip the afternoon Starbucks run and get back to your writing. When my mother was 56, I was 24. Younger than my own sons now.
I was cocksure I knew what the world had in store for me 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
Halloween, Halloween, this is Halloween. All hail the pumpkin king!
Come little children, it’s time to play
We D’Agostinos love Halloween! It is hands down our favorite holiday. We had such fun creating magick in our little plot at 201 Miles. T made a witch’s castle one year as a surprise for us all. And a graveyard complete with wooden headstones and campy sayings. Ghosties swung from the trees, wooden characters made by my Dad stood guard. In the side yard, our towering scarecrow sported a necklace of orange lights and creepy satin green hair. She would billow with the wind, face in a permanent twisted screaming grin. 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
Come live me and be my love, the best is yet to be.
Thirty years ago today I married the love of my life, Mark Anthony D’Agostino. He is my sun , moon & stars; string to my kite; my Tony—my other.
T&V wedding day, August 21, 1982
I remember distinctly the moment I knew with absolute certainty that T was it for me—my soul mate. We had been dating for about a month, although we had been friends for many months before that. I was sitting on his stoop with my friend Kathy from work, on a hot August early evening, watching T wash his battered but beloved VW bug. He was so handsome and I was head over heels, beyond the moon in love.
“Kathy, I’m going to marry that guy.”
“How do you know that?” she replied.
“I just know. Every bit of me loves him. It’s something in my heart that tells me this man is the prince I’ve dreamed of since I was a little girl.”
And so it is that my own fairy tale has come true. You just have to trust your instincts when your heart speak to you. I knew then that my life with T, though I couldn’t see the road ahead, would always be one filled with love, respect, fun, caring, adventure. I also knew that this man Read the rest of this entry