It’s been one week since Becky returned home after her open heart surgery. It’s been wonderful.

But it’s been hard. In fact, it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
Read More »It’s been one week since Becky returned home after her open heart surgery. It’s been wonderful.
But it’s been hard. In fact, it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
Read More »Several people have asked about things on the home front.
Well, the ship hasn’t taken on any water yet. But it sails in icy waters.
Read More »One year ago today, I was eating lunch with Winnie the Pooh and riding Prince Charming’s Regal Carrousel at Disney World.
There was no pandemic. There was no quarantine. There was no Becky.
It was the calm before the storm.
Read More »UPDATE: Michael’s Covid PCR test was NEGATIVE.
I finished my weekend post anticipating Becky’s discharge from the hospital and a calm weekend at home before her surgery. And I closed with these words, “Unless Becky has other plans for her Saturday night.”
She did.
Read More »My last post was in honor of our 24th wedding anniversary. I tried to wax poetic about our life together and the lasting wisdom of our wedding vows. For better for worse. For richer for poorer. In sickness and in health.
But I’m not sure where in those vows to place my husband’s continuing propensity to run out of gas.
Read More »Today is our 24th wedding anniversary.
Which is amazing since I still feel like I am 26. But the Rowdy 7 (and a hungry newborn) who keep peppering me with requests for food, conflict resolution services, and the location of their ski liners indicates that some time has passed.
Read More »A quick post in case your Friday night plans are sparse.
You may enjoy watching a concert featuring New York University (NYU) student orchestras. My niece Ann studies violin performance at NYU and will be performing in this pre-recorded concert.
Read More »Happy Halloween! I’m spending my first holiday in the NICU.
I’d like to go trick or treating later with some of my nurses. But I will most likely sleep through the holiday.
Read More »Ever since I can remember, my dad stored a military sabre at the back of his closet, a relic from a bygone era. Dad attended Marist College High School in Atlanta, Georgia, in what was then an all-boys military academy. He graduated in 1958, the Adjutant of the Battalion at his school.
I doubt Dad ever imagined that his sabre would see the light of day again. He kept it for sentimental reasons. And because it’s hard to donate a weapon to Goodwill.
Read More »My brother Dennis called me from the airport the other day. He was traveling to Atlanta for a weekend of golf with a high school buddy.
He was checking in on me and Baby Ocho. I updated him on the latest concerns regarding the baby’s breech presentation and the potential duodenal obstruction. Dennis responded with a strange comment, “It’s like shoes on the golf bag. Just pile it on.” He told me a story to illustrate his point.
Read More »