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bracesBrace Yourself – If your daughter can grin and bear it, Mom, so can you. (PDF)
Published February 1, 1987

“In this winter of her ninth year, her mouth is wired and my jaw has inexplicably begun to ache.
I was 12 when they wired mine. My father repeatedly told me how sorry he was to have to do this but hoped I’d thank him someday (I have)…”

busstopbluesBus Stop Blues – Mothers are excess baggage when kids are riding high. (PDF)

Published November 15, 1987

“It is 7:35 a.m. and we are racing to meet the bus, which arrives several blocks away at 7:39. This bus must take a very circuitous route to school, I’m thinking as my bouncing cup spews coffee on my shoes. The new school is a mere mile and a half away, but the bus doesn’t get there until 8:30…”

daddyandthestoreDaddy and The Store were inseparable in our eyes. (PDF)
Published September 6, 1987

“Mainly I recall the candles – boxes and boxes of candles on glass shelves. The shelves had to be dusted and polished once a month, the candles counted for inventory twice a year.
I didn’t tell him then, but he probably knew I hated it…”

lettinggoLetting go. This summer she’s not a baby anymore. (PDF)
Published August 17, 1986

“We are in the supermarket, arguing about whether I will buy her a set of plastic fingernails, which come with a vial of glue and cost $4.99.
“But I’ll pay for them myself,” she implores. “You said I could use my own money for things I want!” …”

beabrightmemoriesSeabright Beach memoirs (PDF)
Published October 23, 1988

“We had planned it for months, or at least I had. These days my daughter is not sure she wants to go anywhere without her perpetual gaggle of pals. I knew it was coming, this transition to the preferred company of peers, but I wasn’t prepared for it anyways. I suppose one never is…”

auntineverknewThe Aunt I Never Knew – She was a smiling blond Norwegian girl, the picture of health. (PDF)
Published February 22, 1987

“Once, it was a letter from Norwegian relatives, addressed to my grandparents at a house where they had lived on Lacy Lane off Marconi.
The people who brought the house many years ago remembered seeing my name in the paper, so they sent the letter to me…”