Today is the day. The day. It’s the time too. 3:30 pm. Today, my youngest children, twins J&R, are 6 years 2 months 2 weeks 3 days old. When I woke up on the day I turned 6 years 2 months 2 weeks 3 days old, I had two parents. By dinner, I had one. I made…
The first night our premature newborn slept in our bedroom, I wondered, how can I keep this tiny thing alive? Eight hours later, my husband and I were back at the pediatrician’s office and then the E.R. to re-admit our baby boy. Heart murmur, low blood sugar, jaundice. Without the hospital, I couldn’t keep this tiny thing alive. …
Seven years ago, I wrote here about a colleague who starts each semester prompting her students to consider: Who am I? What am I doing here exactly? What more is there to learn about me? How can I possibly be happy or seek fulfillment when pain, suffering, and death are inevitable? I wrote here about…
Months ago, partly in response to reports on how many of our recyclables don't actually get recycled, I started a creative bin. It's an old basket into which I chuck clean cardboard, paper, and plastic. When the bin gets full, and when the weather is bad or the boys are under it, I pull out…
I routinely observe my sons to catch their point of view, the way I always did with my young students. It's a device, however unreliable, that has long helped me tune in to childhood, even if I can't remember it. Yesterday, we drove to western Massachusetts for a pool party at my uncle's house. My…
Suzanne Farrell Smith 