I often hide my hands now. They stay clasped in my lap when I’m in polite society, though I can’t stop myself from checking for sore spots. They are cracked and deeply lined. The tips sometimes split where the skin meets the nail. I have callouses on the insides of...
Inventors. And necessity. Necessity being the mother of invention. That’s what I thought when I received an email from an advertising agency in Boston, one conducting research for a start-up that developed an all-terrain recreational device and was founded by...
I’m not so proud of the clunky hospital wheelchair I first rented on a monthly basis until, to my horror, I realized I owned it outright. Leslie had a melt-down when I admitted my mistake. How could I not know? In the middle of our ensuing fight, I remember...
I stayed in an assisted living facility during my holiday trip back to Boston; briefly and temporarily, not permanently. My parents moved from their rambling, charming, historic house on five acres in New England to a much more circumscribed facility for seniors in a...
It’s hard to be Leslie. Sometimes. She tries so hard to do everything and be everything. Full tilt at life until it all gets too much for her. When she gets sick, she gets really, really sick. Like many beautiful souls, she wears her luminosity lightly. And when...
I had just turned ten when my hometown baseball team lost a one-game playoff to their arch rivals. That particular game was preceded by an epic run of losses that reduced a big lead in the standings to nothing. The events of September 1978 fully indoctrinated me into...
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