January 29, 2016 Dear Bob, Ten years. That’s how long it’s been since anyone has touched these boots. Ten years since they made their way back to me from the military ER in Iraq. They were stuffed in a clear plastic bag, along with your dented helmet, watch and wallet, caked with dried blood. At the time, I couldn’t bring myself to look at them. They ...
I look in the hand-held mirror and am dismayed to observe that one brow is now permanently raised, like a female version of Star Trek’s Spock. OK, maybe not quite that pronounced, but definitely higher. Noticeably higher. A line of tiny stitches sits just above the eyebrow and my eyelid is drawn up too, like a roman shade. I look half wide-eyed, my face ...
For those of you who never met my Dad, or who knew him only in the last few years when Alzheimer’s had a vice grip on his life, I wanted to share a little something of David F. McConaughy. He was married to my mother, Terry, for 58 years and was a father for just shy of 55. He was the last generation of an industrial era, working his way up one company ...
For anyone who has battled cancer, lost to cancer, kicked cancer’s butt, slow-danced with cancer, supported a loved one with cancer and wanted to see the flower grow out of the crack in the cement sidewalk… well, if cancer is the dark crack…my friend Sandy, and her band of volunteers, are the beautiful flowers. Look what one idea can do to spread ...
My mother’s idea of a beauty regimen is Ivory soap and a slash of red lipstick. She’s a frugal Yankee sort, never one to pore over the NYT style section or spend time gazing in mirrors, sucking in her cheeks and tummy. I routinely find her wearing — and I kid you not — clothes I discarded in high school. It’s important to point out here that I am 54 ...