I remember a dad handing me flowers after a school play, driving me to a speech tournament at the crack of dawn on a Saturday, cheering from the sidelines, and crying at both my graduation and my shotgun wedding. My Alzheimer's-plagued dad remembers that he's supposed to remember me, but he doesn't know my name. … Continue reading Fathers.


Kids are people, too.

An intern appears in the doorway of what has become my makeshift office during these weeks of theatre camp. Looking frazzled, he holds up a hand, indicating that someone---presumably a student---should wait in the hall, before he crosses to the table I've claimed as my desk. "Susie is here to see you," he says in … Continue reading Kids are people, too.

Five Minute Mornings

I belong to a little writing group on facebook called Five Minute Mornings. My response to this morning's prompt is indicative of the reason for my internet absence, i.e., I have not gone into hiding nor declared myself a hermit. I just have a new baby. The prompt: You'll laugh, you'll cry. When he is … Continue reading Five Minute Mornings