Confessions of a Daughterless Mother

View from my walk ... For my entire life my grandparent's house was a cozy, blue, wood-sided ranch nestled in a bed of pine tree needles, pachysandra and ivy, protected by the sentry pines that dropped their leaves in soft, velvety piles -- fragrant enough to make you believe it was Christmas in the heat of July. I have many memories of that house: my aunts and uncles laughing around Grandma Rachel's yellow dining room table, swimming at the neighborhood pool, learning how to make the perfect grilled cheese (making sure the butter crisped the edges) and eating made-to-order omeletes by my grandpa's hand ... reading books and sitting by fires, opening Christmas presents in their basement, watching the rainbows float from my grandma's glass paper weight collection. And buckeyes, always there were buckeyes. Today, I was walking with Luna--my two year old silver Lab--opting out of the gym and enjoying the last promises of 70 degrees and sunshine that only Octobe...

A few months ago Eric and I were having dinner with Aiden at Cugino's -- our favorite hometown restaurant. When we walked in -- there was a wait per usual -- Eric scanned the crowd looking for familiar faces. A woman caught his eye as she sat and chatted, waiting for her table. A minute later they were smiling and hugging, she was holding his hand and her eyes were wet with tears. She was the momma of one of his best friends growing up -- a woman he hadn't seen (he guessed) in 15 ... maybe 20 ... years or more? She and her husband were seated next to us and we continued to chat for the evening--often she apologized for interrupting our meal, he was quick to let her know she could never be a bother, that he was enjoying the reunion as much as she. They caught up on the past two decades, where people were living, what jobs they had, how old their kids were. She marveled at how much Aiden reminded her of a young E ...  I mostly listened, smiling, watching the tide of hist...