Little routines by little people that mean so much to me for reasons I can’t explain.
Every morning my son runs down to the hallway from his bedroom to this window at the top of the stairs and takes in the landscape of the day. He…
The blend of happiness and sadness, pride and envy of the working day is easy on some days. Impossibly hard on others. Also, my son needs to get himself a job.
It’s not uncommon to hear about my wife’s day home with our son or the times that they have spent with friends at a coffee shop or a playground or…
The stuff of my wife’s childhood is alive and well in the hands of our children, and I’m so jealous.
I tease my wife’s parents for their inability to throw anything away. Their basement is filled with artifacts from decades long since gone. And while it’s true that they are…
Why do I remember my childhood with such clarity when so many others do not?
My wife says I have an excellent memory. I’ve never thought so, but it’s true that I can lock a story into my mind and manipulate it onstage without much…
Sentimentality has its benefits.
I’m not a sentimental person when it comes to physical objects. I rarely attach meaning to things, even when given to me for specific reasons and by specific people. Truthfully,…
107 Federal Street update
As you may know, my sister and I write a blog called 107 Federal Street (named after the address of our childhood home) where we attempt to recover and discuss…
