Picture this David Sipress cartoon: two couples meet on a street corner. One of the men has placed his hands over his eyes. His female companion says: "It’s too late, Roger . . . they’ve seen us." This image has me chuckling each time I think about it. It brings to mind how I felt … Continue reading The Introvert’s Dilemma
When our youngest child grew up and moved away, I claimed her bedroom and fashioned a space all my own. It was quite small, on the second story of our home with leafy tree branches almost touching the windows, a nest of sorts. Sometimes my husband came and stood at the threshold to ask me … Continue reading Does Love Trump Privacy?
This week I enjoyed a reunion of sorts. I had dinner with two former colleagues, two lawyers both named Bill. Over many years we spoke often and had developed a level of both trust and admiration for the quality of representation we offered to our clients, but I had not previously known of their close … Continue reading Men Friends
I have few memories of illness in my family as I was growing up. My parents barely acknowledged minor ailments. They spoke of sickness as something that, with proper living, could be avoided. They often deemed the illness of others psychosomatic, not without sympathy, but with an underlying message of some hidden weakness that should … Continue reading The Shame of Illness
My cat likes to have her ears pulled. Her eyes narrow, and she arches her neck with pleasure as she awaits the next gentle tug. This feline resists being picked up, but curls into the crook of my arm when I am propped up in bed reading. She nudges, seeking my touch, and the pressure … Continue reading The Pleasure of Touch
Is it heresy to suggest that friends are often easier to be with than family? On a recent evening, I once again watched the movie version of the Edward Albee Pulitzer Prize Drama, “A Delicate Balance,” which was introduced on Broadway in 1966, yet seems in no way dated. I was drawn in by Albee’s … Continue reading A Delicate Balance
I don’t deal well with anger, rarely express it, and when I’m the target of another’s wrath, I withdraw, literally if possible. I have few memories of angry outbursts in my childhood home, nor were they part of my marriage or later family life. Only vicariously have I been witness to rage, that of actors … Continue reading Anger Revisited