The Last Time

Graduation time. A perfect time to reblog this post.. With a few edits 🙂


person wearing black low top sneakers and black jeans Photo by Nicholas Githiri on

When my daughter was about eight, my husband said to me, “I don’t remember the last time she rode on my shoulders.” She was too big now. “I didn’t realize the last time I carried her would be the LASTtime.” There are a lot of things like that.  A lot of “last times” that sneak up on you.

The last time we brushed her teeth for her or helped her take a bath.  Monitoring her closely, making sure she didn’t A) drown and B) Neglect to wash the back of her neck.

The last time we held hands crossing the street or kept one eye on her in a large crowd.

The last time we rushed to school to bring a forgotten lunch or homework.

The last time we helped her zip her coat, tug on mittens or pull a hat down over…

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What it Means to be a Family Dog.

This morning I woke up thinking about loyal, sweet Gwennie.  Even though she has been gone two years, I can still almost feel her.  Her head on the bed, staring at me, willing me to wake up.  Her toenails, click, click, clicking as she follows Scott's heel closely as he gets ready in the morning.  … Continue reading What it Means to be a Family Dog.

FaceTime and all that jazz.

I am a gramma.  In spite of one daughter's campaign to call me Grampoo (Gracie.... really?), I am called Gramma.  The word needs to be said in a very specific way.... graaaama.... drawn out and high pitched, alright, it could maybe be described as being whiny.   I have said graaaama to him from the … Continue reading FaceTime and all that jazz.


When Grace was in 1st grade she "learned" how to make Voodoo dolls on the bus.  I was in my classroom, grading papers when I felt the sharpest sensation - the pain of a single hair being pulled from my head.  She was making a Voodoo doll of me!  I said absolutely not. Later that night … Continue reading Voo-Doo