Memoir

Dad was a jock.  After dinner, he would take his three daughters onto the baseball fields across the street, and hit pop ups into the air for us to catch.  He played tennis every day into his 83rd year. When we complained of feeling sick, he would remind us, “You’re good stock.” In his mind,

Dear Ethan, Addi Scarlett, Sophie and Henry,   Thank you for your Christmas gifts to me this year.  Some you gave without knowing it.  Like being able to make your own lunch!  Thank you. While we eat lunch you humor me by watching Dick Van Dyke reruns.  Thank you. Thank you for updating Poppy and

    Uncle Paul sent me his memories of his father, Andrew Telford, before he died,  hand written on notebook paper.  Three double sided papers.  Uncle Tommy has been calling me on the phone to talk about his dad. Paul wrote: “There were giants in the land… An amazing life. I am attempting to write

  Many of my friends are writing a book. I’m a writer, too.  My first novel was “Miss Nutshell.”  (1968) I illustrated it also. I write for my family and friends.  I want them to know me. I told my son Jeffrey that I want to be a writer.  He said, “Writing is too lonely

    Jill heard the gentle clinking of ice cubes.  She and Jennifer were snuggled, each in their twin bed, reading.  Jennifer, in kindergarten, was only ‘pretend’ reading her favorite book, ‘Papa Small.’ Dad appeared in the doorway, balancing three Flintstone glasses of Coke in his hands. “I brought you a little drinkie,”  Dad offered

    In November, cold winds blew across Overlook school’s playground. “Time to pull out the winter coats,”  Mother said as she rummaged in the front closet before school one Friday morning. “Jill, here’s your coat.” Mother lifted the dry cleaners’ clear plastic off a clean navy blue coat with shiny brass buttons. “That’s Wendy’s

  PREFACE (which I generally never read in a book) I wrote these fables for my grandchildren Ethan, Addi, Sophie and Henry Rommel.  Math love runs in the family so titled them with a number.  The moral, or “what’s the point?” is something I noticed they enjoyed discovering when we read Aesop’s fables. These stories

Dad served on H. M. S. Glory, a British aircraft carrier, during World War II. He traveled to Deal, England, to enlist in the Royal Marines in October 1943.  This is that ‘last day’ photo before leaving his mother, father,  little sister Ruth, and the family dog Carlos, at 20 Valley Drive, Gateshead.  He was

6105 Abbott Avenue had only, one and three quarter bathrooms.  A family of six, we four girls shared the ‘main’ bath.  The infamous ‘pink shirt’ picture of the Mitchell girls: When we moved to 6105, Wendy and I were in high school,  Jennifer was in junior high and Pam attended elementary school.  I never remember

We biked into the church parking lot this Sunday morning.  I was so happy to be back at church that my eyes filled with tears. I’ve been having flashbacks of Duane’s medical residency, forty years ago, during these last months of lockdown.  We had moved to Rochester, Minnesota, where we knew no one.  Duane was