Even though we are all accustomed to emailing and texting now, it’s not your parents’ typed words that will give you solace when they can no longer write because of cognitive or physical disabilities, or when they can no longer write because they are gone. With that said, save your parents’ handwritten letters.
July 29th, 2011 at 11:37 am
September 5th, 2010 at 5:05 pm
It seems that the longer my mom is a Minnesota Twins fan, the more important the team becomes in her life.
Like many older fans spread across the Upper Midwest, my mom fell in love with the Minnesota Twins about 10 years ago because she needed a friend. Her partner had recently died, all of us kids lived miles away and she found that evenings were the loneliest part of the day. She could keep herself busy during the day, but come nightfall she learned to lean on her boys of summer to get her through. And for five to six month a year, they were there for her nearly every night, rain or shine. The same announcers, the same players, the same managers…she came to know them all on a first-name basis and they filled a gaping hole in her heart.
August 30th, 2010 at 1:43 pm
I never thought I’d see this again: It’s fall and my mother is scrubbing a nasty grass/dirt stain out of a pair football pants. Twenty years ago you could have seen this same scene had you peaked in the kitchen window of our little home. Despite the long hours Mom worked as a waitress, she always had time to make sure that us kids never left the house in anything but a presentable fashion.
And that included football practice pants.
July 22nd, 2010 at 10:28 am
A new tradition in our household is the family trip to the grocery store: When my mother moved in with me, my two sons and my nephew, she wanted to contribute to the household the best way she knew how–through food. My mother is of that generation of women who believe that to love someone is to feed them, to stuff them–to ensure they never have another hunger pang again.