Fifty years ago we moved to the Chicago area, and as I’m contemplating moving again next week, I’m skipping through the five places we’ve lived in my mind. It was a hot sultry summer in 1966 when we took up temporary residence in our Aunt Jennie’s basement bedroom on 57th Court in the western suburb …
Category: memoir
The Move (6) – You Are Where You Live / Setting as Character
As an on-again-off-again dieter, I know the meaning of “You are what you eat.” Depending on the era, I’m hot fudge sundae pudgy or Rye Crisp slim. Now, as an older gal in the process of moving away from my urban high-rise life, I’ve become hyperaware that “You are where you live.” It won’t be …
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Growing Older: The Move (5) – On the Run
Pace, pace, pace yourself. My mantra since accepting about a decade ago, finally, that I have fibromyalgia. Of course, I’d had it years before, but never wanted to acknowledge that the fatigue and deep burning muscle pains needed my attention. But I learned at last and now know if I’m ignoring my body and listening …
Growing Older: The Move (3) – “Gloriously Blinded”
I sit here at my desk, overlooking Millennium Park, with a pile of mail, including renewal notices for Chicago Symphony Orchestra, Art Institute, Grant Park Orchestra, a few museums, Lincoln Park Zoo and more. And I’ve had two calls in the last week, Am I renewing or not? If not, they will give my seat …
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Growing Older: The Move (1)
Just six months ago I Kon Mari’d our home, following the advice of bestselling declutter author, Marie Kondo, and picked up each item from ceiling to floor and closet to drawer, asking it if it gave me joy and pitching it if the answer was no. My items talked back to me; my friends who …
Growing Older: On Turning 74
For weeks I've been thinking about how I want to spend the rest of my life. I retired 15 years ago and have done everything I wanted to do from attending concerts and plays, volunteering at church, writing a book, and taking a few dozen writing and humanities courses. My thinking about the future started …
Growing Older: Fractured Ribs for Christmas
When a title like this comes to mind, it usually means a story is begging to be told. Well, here’s my story. While a child may sing “All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth,” an older woman like me probably won’t sing “All I want for Christmas is a few fractured ribs.” …
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Pie Crust
“It doesn’t have to be anything big,” humorist/essayist David Sedaris said recently at the Auditorium Theater in Chicago. He said many more good things about writing, like it can be about something "annoying" or "humbling", but it was dark where I sat in my half-price seat in the nosebleed section, so I managed to scribble …
Memories Never Made
I'm a big proponent of writing your life story; I often think about the phrase that when we die, our words die with us. My husband and I recently took a trip to Minnesota near where my paternal grandparents had lived. I never met them, or my aunt or uncle. On our trip, we were …
Growing Older: Getting Use to Embarrassment
I went to a writer’s conference over the weekend. The morning after, I usually wake up filled with ideas about what to do with many unfinished writing projects. Not today. I woke up this morning feeling embarrassed. Why? It took a second to remember. I’d dropped my phone Saturday. More correctly, I’d let it slide …
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Write Along with Me 