From me to me, listen up!
I am dazed and amazed that she had the foresight to provide me with such hindsight.
Stranger at the pay phone
As she began speaking to an operator, my mind wandered to a blood-splattered ER where I envisioned my little boy grimacing in pain and crying for his mommy, me.
Why my Bombeck badge matters
This badge arrived attached to an email announcing that one of my essays now lives on the Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop website.
The crying, the gift and the wardrobe
As she outgrew the costumes, she handed those down to her younger sister – the costumes, mind you, not the wardrobe. That would always and forever be hers. So was the dream.
Dancing with words
I go to refill my coffee and see the clock advance, its hands beckoning me to dance.