Woman! presses out the wrinkles.

I have a friend who is hobbled by her well-meaning mother. Her mother, we’ll call her Maude, is a woman used to being listened to and respected. She raised her children impoverished and single-handedly, and they become doctors and professors. I once complimented her ex-husband on how much I liked his daughter and he told…

Phantom limb

  *Originally written for Mother’s Day, 2013 My mom tended to make things up. Not lie. Fill in gaps. Pad. Fabricate.People said more passionate, endearing things in her memory. I was near enough to hear her meet a boy she used to help as a school-aid 20 years ago. She was tired, they only talked…

Too pretty to be normal

Many women and girls have the ability to look fantastic. To really lay it on, dress to the nines. They turn heads at the Italian restaurant, they get flirted with at the wedding reception. Even I could do it every now and then. But that’s not the same as being “professional grade” pretty. Like models and…

My Gus Hole

  I am a twisted peg, and I owe so much happiness to that. So this is my analogy. Love is a pegboard, stretching Alice-in-Wonderland style to near infinity. You are a peg, individually carved. Your shape is determined by who you are, your entirety. The sexual attractiveness of your body, your rage, your humor, your ambition, your selfishness, your wit, your…