Sixteen autumns ago, when my younger son Jack was a baby, I took a writing class in Harvard Square. Wednesday…
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parenting journey
The parenting road doesn’t end, it just changes, until you look back and marvel at the distances covered and the transformations that occurred along the way. Newborns turn into kids with skinned knees, adolescents become college students far from home, and one day a grown son pulls out his credit card and offers to buy you dinner. I wouldn’t have traded any of it, not even the sleepless nights. Writing is a way of remembering. Read more about my parenting journey, or browse the archive of stories below.
Pub date
Pub date for The Gift of an Ordinary Day came and went, the book’s arrival in stores eclipsed in our…
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