He says I’m a good emcee; I say he needs no introduction. Ideas continually in motion, words always in play—he animates the inanimate. Like a strong chain skater, Dan leads us in this project, his followers whipping out behind.
February 28, 2006
February 27, 2006
38/365 Dr. H.
He missed my delivery, insisting gruffly that it would be hours. Seven minutes later I gave birth to a daughter, lifting her out myself. “I’ve waited a long time for this generation of women,” he said later, presumably in apology.
February 26, 2006
37/365 Alex
Alex and I were too young to kiss (for that era), so we “went together” by standing close and talking softly. He was Greek, so I said I was fascinated by mythology. Which I was. More or less. Somewhat. Maybe.
February 25, 2006
36/365 My Daughter Suzanne
“Self do it!” she proclaimed at two. “Self” has been doing it ever since. I, the late bloomer, watch in awe as my Zannie blooms early and repeatedly. I ask her advice far more often than she ever sought mine.
February 24, 2006
35/365 Nick
Nick and family lived in Leningrad when we began writing; now it’s St. Petersburg. A friend, on assignment in Russia, carried my small offerings: a watch, necklaces. She flew home with a 40 lb. box of china in her lap.
February 23, 2006
34/365 My Husband
People tended to define Joe by his superb education, outstanding competence, and enthusiasm for problem-solving. We, too, often saw him that way—the husband and father who made us all feel safe. It made his dementia all the sadder.
February 22, 2006
33/365 Aunt Elsie
Her legs were trim in shorts, her hands skilled in gardening gloves. Under the dogwood tree, surrounded by a paradise of flowers in every color, she would serve iced tea, gazing fondly at her daughter and me, the almost-twin cousins.
February 21, 2006
32/365 Dick
Dick was my mother’s boyfriend when she was 16, and my piano teacher when I was six. He let me steal hot dogs from his lentil soup. He and his beautiful wife were my first crushes. I married his look-alike.
February 20, 2006
31/365 Marie
Marie and I were pregnant at the same time. Her due date was earlier, but I went into labor first. When she was told, she lay on the floor and kicked her feet, screaming at the unfairness of my behavior.
February 19, 2006
30/365 Cleveland Amory
I wrote to him in 1970, describing how my stepdaughters and I released turtles from the murky confines of pet shop tanks, and asked, What can I do to help animals? He wrote back four pages in longhand, telling me.
