There are enough Aesop tales about flattery that we all know it’s a bad and dangerous thing; crow lost her cheese and grasshopper lost his life (so much worse than lost cheese), but I must admit, I thrive on it. Tell me I’m smart, witty or charming or compliment my shoes, bag or scent and I will be your BFF&EVA. I like sweet words so much, I sprinkle them liberally; sales-staff, cable repairers, hair stylists et al. My largess never fails to bring me terrific service or, at the very least, a pleasant smile in return.Read More
One More Thing Before I Go
Last spring when the scent of lilacs followed me from the backyard into my kitchen, I thought of my mother’s distant cousin and her daughters, who, like my lilacs, visited yearly when the earth warmed and the days grew longer. I pictured us all in idyllic memories of jump rope games and playing with dolls. But, except for MaryAnn, the littlest daughter, I could not remember their names.
A few years ago, I could have called my mother. She would have teased me for my forgetfulness, asked what I was making for dinner (there was never a phone conversation where we didn’t talk about food) and repeated her mother-to-daughter mantra, “When are you coming over?” We would have shared stories of those long-ago days before hanging-up and re-joining our lives. But my mother has passed on and while the images of our family lingers-the details are lost. I write One more thing before I go, my living record for my son, in hope that one day, when he has a question I can no longer answer, it can be found in this blog.