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I've often said that in another life, I'd be a sociologist. I'm fascinated by how people live behind their front doors. Years ago, a young me would jog in the city and look into people's apartment windows as I went by. Ultimately, it was this behavior that led me to, well, fall down. Repeatedly. I was so busy pondering the lives of the people whose windows I passed that I didn't pay attention to the cracks in the sidewalks, or the curbs, or my feet. And so down I'd go....
Three o'clock in the afternoon, riding in the airport shuttle down narrow cobbled streets, the passenger next to me was making polite small talk. I didn't want to be rude, but I tried to look around her at the passing scenery as we drove. It was raining lightly. The driver was supposed to deliver me to my hotel, but instead pulled over on a busy commercial street. As he unloaded my luggage, he pointed down a narrow street that forked into two at the end of a long block. He...
“The birds are always chirping. At least there’s that. Every morning when I step outside to get the newspaper, the birds are chirping. I can’t see them, but knowing they’re there gives me pause. I stand in my own silence, listening. Sometimes it’s just a moment, other days it seems I need more, so I lean against the porch railing and breathe deeply for as long as it takes, to clear my mind and find gratitude. At least in this moment, alone in my robe on my front porch, th...
Some things, they don't warn you about. Others, even things you'd rather not know, are shared in abundant detail - labor and delivery experiences, kids' test scores, social gaffes. All stories told parent-to-parent about raising kids. To be fair, I am grateful for the stories, most of which can be boiled down to a central nugget of meaningful advice. Girlfriends and strangers alike have shared knowledge that is worth more than any information from Dr. Oz, Oprah or podcasters...
Today, I thought I'd tap into my intellectual grandiosity to present a philosophical theory. A question of id vs. ego, thought vs soul, good vs evil. Or maybe, if I could entice you to go deeper into the discussion: Phoebe vs Joey. In an episode of the TV series, "Friends," Joey states that true altruism doesn't exist, because in doing something nice for another person, the benefactor himself gets positive feedback or psychological warm fuzzies for doing so. Any act of...
Years ago, when I began writing for The Hinsdalean, I was asked to introduce myself in a short column. I described myself with a string of nouns: “wife,” “mother,” “daughter,” “doctor,” etc. These words, I thought, summed me up quite neatly. Decades later, I’ve changed my mind. I offered readers my roles, the hats I don and exchange as I move through my life. But roles don’t define a person, do they? Rather, I think the essence of a person lives in the spaces between her...
When I was 10 years old, I was the new girl at a small school. To feel better about myself, I was mean to another girl, a girl who'd been nice to me. I also kicked a boy named Jerry on the playground. I know these are little things but I'm sorry nonetheless. I also recognize that I was a scared little girl, and I temper my self-judgment with compassion. Wouldn't it be wonderful if we could do the same with others? Adopt a "walk in their shoes" level of understanding when we re...
It started out like an ordinary Thursday. Although now that I think of it, I actually remember feeling like it was a particularly peaceful weekday morning. The boys got up and to school on time, well fed and happy; I remembered to pack my daughter's show-and-tell treasures before dropping her at preschool. The beds were made, teeth brushed, dishes put away. I patted myself on the back for doing such a good job with the morning routine as I stopped for coffee before I headed...
It's not as if my teenage son needs more reason to be embarrassed of me, but at lunch recently, I know he wanted the earth to swallow him alive, right there at the cash register. I had been working at home that day as a mom. A mom whose kids were about to go back to school after a summer that had started the day before, in fact, had barely even happened. As such, I was online all morning filling out forms, ordering supplies, synching calendars, buying books, etc. On this parti...
In my last column, I wrote about getting drenched. I said that the sky above our family was falling and our roof was leaking. Since that column, our monsoon has thankfully passed. My family is dry, and we are together. I mentioned the buckets we placed to stave off flooding. Today, I want to tell you about the umbrellas that shielded us from the worst of the storm. They do not, cannot, mop up the messiness of our lives, collect our pain in buckets and hope it will be...
The sky is falling. At least our sky is falling, over our home, and within our family. Health concerns of beloved family members have my husband and me scrambling to help. I used to think we had a modicum of control over our lives, over our "sky" if you will, but as we are placing metaphorical buckets under our dripping roof, I realize we are powerless in the face of certain life events. We can only react to these events and try our best to do right by our families and friends...
Funny how a pandemic can mess with a person's sense of time. It seems like those days in mid-March were last week and also 10 years ago. I have a close friend who said that now "every day is Tuesday": not days to be anticipated like weekend days, nor days to be dreaded like Mondays. Every day indistinct enough to be a Tuesday. Time confusion isn't unique to 2020 though. Those of us with children have always known about the time warp known as parenthood. When our kids were...
