Joanne is my youngest stepdaughter. When I heard she passed 40, I didn’t want to believe it. To me she will always be 11, sitting on my lap in the speedboat, her long strawberry blonde hair flying in the sun.
January 31, 2006
January 30, 2006
10/365 The Famous Poet
I didn’t know the Famous Poet was famous at first. I just knew he was looking. I had no reason to look, even when he looked at me. But language can be so very seductive….especially when it makes us laugh.
January 29, 2006
9/365 Mary Rose
With a smile as genuine as her hard-working hands, Mary Rose serves my straight-up martinis without spilling a drop. We talk quietly about life, love, worry…children who grow up, men who don’t. We hug, and she thanks me for asking.
January 28, 2006
8/365 Marcia
When I told Marcia I was happily pregnant, she said, “Be careful. You could still have a miscarriage.” Then she said, “Or maybe you’re not pregnant at all. Maybe you failed to get your period because of a medical problem.”
January 27, 2006
7/365 Peggy
Cousin Peggy was married to Felix. She was his opposite: industrious, kind, loving—even to him. She took in boarders to support them. He gave her no children. Several of her lovely hooked and braided wool rugs grace my home.
January 26, 2006
6/365 Alan
When Alan, my first boyfriend, heard I was engaged, he pushed his way to me at the bar and said a little too loudly, “Well, are you glad you waited for marriage?” I replied, “What makes you think I waited?”
January 25, 2006
5/365 Emilie
When cataracts forced Emilie to stop driving, she hitchhiked to and from work. She was 83. Around the same time she gave up everything unpleasant. Her daughters-in-law cleaned her house occasionally. Now she’s my role model for the next life.
January 24, 2006
4/365 Felix
Felix spoke French, and that entitled him—in his mind—to do nothing productive for the duration of his life. While others worked, Felix sat with cigarette and wine and passed judgment. He viewed my adolescent awkwardness with complete distain.
January 23, 2006
3/365 Ray
Ray was a handsome med student, drove an XKE, and was engaged. He suggested we start having sex. When I suggested his fiancée might be a more appropriate partner, he said, “Oh, no—I would never do that to her.”
January 22, 2006
2/365 Sarah
Sarah and I were best friends in Manhattan. We worked together, spent every lunch together, shared every thought. I moved to Pennsylvania, had babies. She went back to school and moved to Alaska. I’ve been looking for her for years.
