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I write to thank Hinsdale Falcon Football & Cheer and “Falcons Nation” for a wonderful fundraising celebration this past Friday night. A special thank you to event organizers and benefactors Nadine and Bill O’Malley, Kay and Mike Sharples, Tracy and Craig Zoberis, and Stephanie and Jim Hamman. Their efforts, and the generosity of nearly 200 Falcons families and supporters, have put this outstanding 100 percent volunteer organization in a position to succeed and thrive well into the future, extending more than 50 years of pr...
It's that time of year for seniors - college application season. College applications are many things, one of which is not easy. Speaking from experience, they're a bit of a chore - sort of like cleaning my room, with added importance, of course. My room appears as if a hurricane spiraled through, with piles of laundry, snacks and my dog's footprints. I ignore my mom's texts to tidy up until she pounds on my door. I hear a constant knocking these days, reminding me to get...
With the holidays right around the corner, it's time to consider The Fear-of-Death Diet. Of all the diets I've tried, none has been more successful than The-Fear-of-Death Diet. It's a lot like that well-known adage: "Nothing clarifies the mind like a hanging." Especially your own. I came across The Fear-of-Death Diet by accident at my doctor's office. Most of my "numbers" were not good. Since I was an avid, decades-long lap swimmer, I thought I could eat whatever I wanted. App...
I never expected to be where I am now. And I am everything I expected I would be now. I never thought I would be a single mom now. And I know I am a better parent because of that now. I never thought I would still not be in the career I want at age 45, right now. And I know that every day I keep learning, especially now. These seem like complete contradictions. Since I last wrote for The Hinsdalean, so much has changed, and these statements are completely true and in juxtaposi...
The room where my husband Mark and I wait with our dog Cody is sterile and smells like antiseptic. It never bothered me before, but now the bare beige walls and steel table seem harsh and mean. We sit in silence on the hard wooden bench. We've discussed every possibility. Everything's been tried and nothing worked. I've worn my glasses for a month now. My contacts get too fogged up when I cry. I scan my phone while Mark sits with his elbows on his knees, watching our dog....
I can't help but chuckle at all the recent social media posts from parents dropping off their freshman kids at college. Could you people be any weepier? Come on! It's not like they're moving to the other side of the world and disowning you forever. I can laugh, of course, because I'm past that point in my life. I can also laugh because back in the day there was no more blubbering parent on the face of the earth than yours truly. As for my kids, they were just fine. In fact,...
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...
As I'm sure was the case for many, this summer marked my family's maiden voyage from Hinsdale in 18 months. It was our first plane ride, first meal in a restaurant and first time seeing relatives in person. I was ready to travel - but completely unprepared to question my own identity. The trip was equal parts frustrating and enjoyable: We experienced the rainiest July in Massachusetts in 80ish years (yay, lots of unexpected time indoors) but also tons of face time minus...
Actual texts from my high school senior on the day Lollapalooza tickets went on sale back in May. 10:51 a.m.: Do.Not.Forget.Lolla.Tickets.Get.On.The.Website.At.11:58.And.Be.Ready. 11:22 a.m.: DON'T FORGET 11:53 a.m.: I WILL PAY U BACK (*author's note – still waiting) Noon: BUY 12:10 p.m.: She called to confirm the purchase, and I gave her a, "Doh, I knew there was something I forgot to do" line (which, due to my prior track record, she gave no credence). I provided her some qu...
"Welcome to the Hinsdale Community Pool! It's a scorcher out here today, Diane, and the competition is really heating up!" "You're right there, Bill. If you're just joining us, we've already seen some spectacular performances. Over in the shallow end, Henry and Reagan secured gold by throwing all four of their shoes into the pool in under 9 seconds." "Were points awarded for shooting between Grandpa's legs while he listened to his audiobook?" "Involving Grandpa is a hit with...
My teenage boys will never forgive me for “The Velveteen Rabbit.” They insist they remain emotionally scarred, more than a decade after first hearing it. “But the rabbit becomes real!” I protest. “Mom! The boy doesn’t get to be with his best friend EVER AGAIN! How is that a happy ending?” Needless to say, we take our love of loveys very seriously. We have lovey stories that run the gamut from tragic to comedic to touching, yet somehow all tear-jerking. There’s the one when we...
Five years ago this August I wrote a guest column about the passing of our beloved yellow lab, Sam Adams. A heartbreak for all of us, but as it turns out, our hearts were again captured by another yellow lab, this time a puppy that we named Augustus “Augie” Wilhelm. Augie was a captivating yellow furball who grew to be 95 pounds of unrestrained exuberance and energy. Augie is smart, as most labs are; he can track a ball thrown over the garage and catch it, put away his toys and (according to my husband) tell time — dinne...
I'm in a mood - and not a good one. I read the papers, look on the internet, get in my car, watch TV, and it seems almost everywhere I go, people are in a mood too. The world is supposedly ending (due to disease or global warming, take your pick), people have decided they no longer need to be civil to one another, much less help each other, and the people we've elected to government offices have largely made everything divisive, attempting to sway people to "their side." My...
The house next door to us is going to be torn down. I know that isn't news in this town where old homes are torn down everyday. But there are many things that happen all the time - every day - and until they happen to you, well, they don't mean as much. I should add that while it is accurate to say that homes are torn down all the time, it is not accurate to say that it has happened on our block. In fact, except for a couple of homes on the edges of our block, it, and the home...
When I last wrote an article for the paper, I had just finished my senior year of high school and was getting ready to begin a new chapter of my life at the University of Georgia. My first year at school was filled with new friendships, lots of school work, fun nights out, a new sorority and many memories. Despite some COVID-19 setbacks, such as online classes and limited events, I am grateful to say that I was able to have a much more normal year than many other students....
It was a bright June day. Prior to that moment, I had never wielded a golf club in my 31 years of life. It was my turn to tee off, and I stepped up to the golf ball, took my first swing - and missed the ball. Everyone gave me an encouraging nod to try again. I swung again and missed a second time. I could feel the tension growing, and so I hastily swung a third time. I missed yet again. I quickly swung again, and I finally hit the golf ball, which traveled about 10 feet along...
My brother-in-law recalls a time in the early '60s when flying to a vacation destination with his parents meant wearing a suit. He was 8 or 9 years old. Everyone laughs along with him when it's brought up, because seeing a child dressed so formally for a flight these days would be something of an oddity. And yet, I have to admire the implied degree of respect for air travel that existed back when flying was more of a novelty. Now that commercial passenger flights have become...
As we celebrate our country's independence this week, I can't help but chuckle about some of the crazy holidays the world has conjured up over the years. How do you celebrate National Zipper Day or World Mosquito Day in your household? What about Count Your Buttons Day or Super Mario Day? Want to know my opinion of Sweetest Day? Just ask my wife. Father's Day, however, is a different story, or at least it has been since I became a dad some 26 years ago. I never gave it much...
We often find our best selves during our toughest moments. Unfortunately, that simple truth seems to be going the wrong way. Consider a recent morning in Hinsdale. A woman finishes her workout and gleefully punches in an order for a tall Starbucks on the iPhone tucked into her Lululemon pants. She jumps in her SUV to pick up her mobile order, which looks to be ready in three minutes. However, her mood collapses when she walks into the store and realizes the order is not...
I’ve been jettisoning stuff of late and have found it harrowing, liberating and, on this Fathers’ Day, very affirming. For too long, I avoided it: throw too much overboard, and too much of what aspired to make you “you” is lost. Toss too little, and too much of what clutters the “you” in you remains. Now, I’ve reached that stage in life where, in plumbing parlance, I’m circling the drain. I’m clinging to the porcelain with as much tenacity as I can muster, but I’ve learned that keeping too many old aspirations, withou...
Today is my husband's birthday (love you, hon!). He is a year older than me, but looks younger by virtue of his hair somehow remaining as golden as it was on our wedding day, whereas mine gets regularly shellacked with dye. It's rather annoying. My weight goes up and down (mostly up, honestly), my hair started graying before we even met, and yet my Sensible Husband has not changed one bit after almost 18 years of marriage. He hasn't even lost a single (non-gray) hair on his...
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...
One of my favorite childhood memories is looking up at the night sky with my dad. After pulling into the garage/tool shed following an evening outing, my four siblings and I would follow Dad across the gravel drive toward the back door of our farmhouse. On clear, moonless nights, he would pause, tilt his head back and point out the Milky Way, the Big Dipper, the North Star. Now I find myself wondering what was going through Dad's mind as he stood there, surrounded by kids and...
Having the Art Institute of Chicago nearby was a definite bonus of growing up in Hinsdale. Thanks to a steady cadence of visits that included Oak School class trips and the obligatory tour for out-of-town visitors, the Art Institute provided me with a world-class early education in the visual arts. "Nighthawks," "A Sunday Afternoon on La Grande Jatte" and all the Monets entranced me, every time. It has been such a joy to encounter "Water Lilies" not just in my "home town" but...
Growing up in The Region, my Dad had a sub-30-minute stretch goal from our driveway to Comiskey Park. Depending on the Dan Ryan traffic and his risk-taking appetite, this was sometimes achievable with us having lived in Munster (not the case for some clodhopper down in Griffith, Ind.). My love for the White Sox was cemented in the '70s, even though the Sox failed to make the playoffs throughout my childhood fandom. To me, the characters associated with the Sox (Bill Veeck,...
