Son Mattie’s time is about to get more precious.
Did I tell you that, in August, I am going to be a grandmother, again? It has been 12 years since we have had a new baby in the family and everybody, including the menfolk, are vying for the new baby’s attention.
At the end of a long Mother’s Day, Grady said to me, “Sorry you had to work so hard.” My reply was honest and simple: “I enjoyed it.”
My mother always said, no matter how old her children got, she wanted to see where they lived. That it made her rest better. And now, that is the way I feel, too.
After a year of good citizenship, social distancing, and following the vaccine protocol of the CDC, we McCoy’s decided it…
There is no scientific proof that war is ingrained in human nature, according to a study by Brian Ferguson, professor of anthropology at Rutgers University-Newark.
But I don’t need scientific proof to know that every Fall, as deer season approaches, my husband and late father would get an itch. A drive to get outdoors, feel the change of season, and shoot something.
During our second Miami work week, Grady’s parents came to town.
Ann, having grown up on the beach in California, was energized by the childhood sensory memories created by the sights, sounds, and beach smells.
My ex-husband, Ron Thompson, used to say I was the only person he knew that could wear ten colors below the ankle.
Marking time with important life events is as old as time as itself. There is the birth of your children, when you moved into your home, the death of a loved one and, of course, anniversaries, which grow more astounding as you grow older.
When getting ready for work or play, I occasionally enjoy listening to Pitbull’s Sirius XM station and jumping up, half-dressed, to dance in front of the mirror. This past Sunday morning, as I painted on my face, I tuned in and noticed the DJ kept asking callers if their family’s Easter celebration was more religious or social. Many listeners said both–and all followed up with praise and gratitude for their full family and life.
For many of us, this Christmas will be different. As I sit and think about my growing grandchildren, I reflect on Christmases past.
My parent’s generation thought of dogs as animals. In my generation, they were elevated to family pets. And now, in the homes of millennials, they are treated as children.
I love flower arranging, cooking, and being outdoors, but gardening is not my jam. The ground is just too far down there, and it wreaks havoc on my nails. But my son, Gray, loves the soil and the science of plants. He gardens without gloves!
Since mother’s passing in 2018, my sister and I haven’t seen each other much, though we keep vowing to make time to get together for lunch. There’s no particular reason for this sabbatical, just a lot of little ones. We live 45 minutes from each other, and after years of serious end-of-life communications about our mother, it’s felt good to have a reprieve from speaking. Then, the uncertainty of Covid-19 happened. And lastly, like many families, we are of opposing political views, so waiting to visit after the election seemed like a nice idea.
My parents could be labeled average people, they were steadfast citizens with a moral compass and an honest bias. Growing up, my siblings and I never encountered drinking problems, violence, or infidelity from within our family. I was lucky to have been born to them.
You know, mothers know everything. Early on, I knew -and my mother knew- my first born, cherub-like son was probably gay.
A month or so ago, I could tell Grady needed a vacation, so I planned what I thought would be an easy get away to the nearby Mountain Harbor Resort on Lake Ouachita. It’s a place full of memories for our family.
I know, I know, I know, enough about the new sober Grady. I promise I will stop sharing his good news soon, because later this month I have some exciting news to share with everyone. I can’t wait! Stay tuned.
About Grady, one more time:
For a man who reads but never posts on Facebook, I was curious (later shocked) when my husband kept asking me, on our anniversary day, “Have you seen Facebook today?”
What did you do on your birthday? I mean your *real* birthday; the day you were born. I imagine you popped out crying, then fell asleep, and suckled all the rest of the week.
Dogs are great but that doesn’t mean everyone should have one, especially young people whose lives are in flux.
That is why, when son Jack came home from a dog walk in the woods with friends and announced he was thinking of adopting a dog he just met, I was vehemently opposed.
My current Netflix binge-watch, with some never-seen-before footage, is Greatest Events of WWII. While I watched this mini-series, I thought of my dad; a young man who fought in this war and was shot down and lived 2 years in Stalag Luft III, a German prison camp.
