The day I got lucky, 13 years ago
I’ve chosen this lucky day to post my first ever paid-to-be-published piece here, blasting it into cyberspace amidst the dust of comets and stars and words that live forever.
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.
The goodness of a teeny tiny beating heart
This teeny tiny heart beats and I am pleased beyond measure with this treasure…
Coming full circle in the Square
…when the day came to kiss his little forehead and gaze into his trusting hazel eyes one last time before planes, trains and old technology separated us, I almost changed my mind.