My Dad, my first hero, died six months ago yesterday. Six months. At times, it’s felt like a blur. At others, it’s been an exercise in holding my breath, bracing for the pain, working out the cramps when I can. Sometimes I click on his Spotify icon, just to see if “daveflynn425” has listened to anything of note lately. To see if maybe there’s any record of those daily playlists we listened to during his chemo and hospice time. Like {Read More}
Jasper went under the knife (no, Mom, I will NOT stop calling it that).
August 20, 2015 By 2 Comments
Allow me a moment of self-confidence, if you will: I’m good at a lot of things. A lot. I’m a speed reader. People like my cooking. And for esoteric classic rock trivia? None better. That said, put me in a hospital scenario and I’m a tweaky, abysmal basket case. The antiseptic scent makes my head spin and my skin crawl. The sight of needles makes me babble. The idea of needles and general anesthetic and I.V.s makes me a truly {Read More}
First Father’s Day without him, a.k.a. Hiding out in the records.
June 22, 2015 By 3 Comments
Possessions are not people. They do not have the power to physically, truly, replace a person nor bring him back nor make things good again. And keeping every object that someone you loved once loved is not a sustainable, good, or fair practice for any party involved. I know this. I’ve told myself this. I remind myself that I know that I told myself this. That said, I own a goodly portion of my Dad’s record collection. Like, hundreds. And {Read More}
Grief Looks Like That? (And Other Concerns My Friends Have.)
June 1, 2015 By 2 Comments
Here’s something else they don’t tell you about grief: It doesn’t look like you’d expect it to look. If I had my way- and I do so love to have my way- I’d perch myself somewhere and don an appropriately demure black lace veil. Clutch some wilting violets to my (also appropriately) faded volume of The Book of Folly. My face would be pressed against a window streaming with rivulets of rain and, when I cried, it would be with {Read More}
Jasper’s First Haircut And I Didn’t Even Yarf.
February 23, 2015 By 5 Comments
I have a thing about my youngest child- perhaps you’ve noticed. Not to be all Ma Bates over here, but my baby is my baby and a boy’s best friend is his mother. Digression. But even I’ll be among the first to admit that the kid needed a trim. His bangs went from Bieber-esque to Beatlesmania to “I bet your daughter’s really pretty under that waterfall of hair.” Even my Dad, the permissive rockstar that he is, casually mentioned that {Read More}
Time Travel And No Take-Backs.
February 16, 2015 By 4 Comments
So, last night P.J. and I decided to watch a movie while folding Mount St. Laundry and eating the copious amount of candy he had procured by running down our alley to Walgreens- because a) we live entirely too close to easily runnable locales and b) I will forever and ever Amen be married to a teenaged boy. I’m a hard sell on most movies; in fact, I have a tough time committing to anything with a run time of {Read More}
Hurry Up And Slow Down, (AKA Please Let Me Be Better Tomorrow).
December 4, 2014 By 8 Comments
Multitasking with little kids underfoot is an unfair, thankless, contact sport. It really just is. Because no matter what I’m feeling, thinking, or wanting in this season of my life, there will always be at least three small people needing to eat (again?!), needing to be reminded to not stand on the table (looking at you, Blondie), and needing to physically be moved from location to location. All. Day. Long. Wiping the same portion of the same (shockingly not spotless) {Read More}
Nora’s First Field Trip, a.k.a. Here’s Why I Cried Yesterday.
March 27, 2014 By 23 Comments
Yesterday morning, Nora went on her very first field trip. And I kinda had a thing about it. It wasn’t so much the “field” part of the equation (because she’d been seeing shows at that particular theater for years), but the “trip” part? Yeah, that’s the bit that kicked me in the Feels. Nora and I have quite a lengthy history- nearly 4.5 years, in fact- of being borderline inseparable. As my papoose while I nannied other kiddos for the {Read More}
