Words To Live By

Can you spot one lucky guy? 

Happy Birthday to not only the most interesting man I know, but to one very lucky guy!

Here are 25 profound sayings Peter has been known to uttered over the past 50 something years:

"Hey, look what I found?"

"I take pictures of tracks."

"No more pets."

"No."

 

"No."

 

"I'd say no since we don't even own a home, but no one says no to Peggy."

"What did I say about not bringing
home any more pets?"

"This is the last one. No more pets after this one."

 

"You're the one who said no more puppies!"

"I hope the zoo takes him, because I really don't want a pig."

"What happened out there?"

"You don't want a store. I'm telling you.
You do not want a store."

Cecilia: "Which one should I get?"
Peter: "Oh, it's too hard to pick. Just get them all!"
Alright, alright. Peter never said that. Hahaha! But I wish he did. 

"Life's too short for cheap beer."

"...warm beer."

"...crappy beer."

"When I go fishing, I'm not abandoning you.
I'm just going fishing. I'll always come back."

"I never want to have kids."

 

"I don't want to have another kid. I don't think
I have enough love for two."

"I learned to cook out of self-defense."

"I was born a poor black child."

"I am not an engineer."

"I get up every morning and I get to say,
'I LOVE my job!'"

"Never turn down a job until it's offered to you." 

"Just hear me out. I found a job on findajobinafrica.com.
I probably won't get it, but I'd like to apply.
If nothing else, it'll be a fun exercise."

 

"I'm not an engineer, but I'll get up every day
and go to this job because we need the money
and I'm lucky to have it."

"We have great kids.
We enjoy each other's company.
We've done a lot with our lives.
I am one lucky girl."
says Cecilia
each and
every day.
<3

Happy Happy Birthday, Peter! Your place in this world has made our lives that much more interesting...and us, very very lucky! 

 

Women's Work, the San Bushmen and the Role of being a Woman

 Here Bushmen women demonstrate how string is made
as part of the San Bushmen experience at Trailblazers
(Ghanzi, Botswana. Photo: Cecilia Dinio Durkin, 2003)

According to the official International Women's Day #IWD2016 site: March 8 is a global day celebrating the social, economic, cultural and political achievements of women. The day also marks a call to action for accelerating gender parity.

The date was designated for the all-women garment-workers march in New York City in 1857, "demanding improved working conditions, a ten hour day, and equal rights for women (https://www.uic.edu/orgs/cwluherstory/CWLUArchive/interwomen.html). In 1910, a German socialist named Clara Zetkin proposed this date be proclaimed International Women's Day to commemorate the US demonstrations and to honor working women worldwide. 

For me, IWD is the greatest of holidays. After all, Women's Work is all about helping women to achieve their chosen, desired way of life. Not that men don't matter, but today and throughout the month of March, women are the focus and we celebrate.

As I write my memoir of our life in Africa, I have been exploring the reason I identify with the San Bushmen. While there, I was driven to define, adjust, evaluate and appreciate my role as a woman in terms of being a daughter, sister, wife, mother, author, advocate, business owner, founder, leader and citizen of the US and the world. So complicated, complex, and also so very simple. 

As I grew up, I heard from my mother and father that as their daughter, they would work hard and provide a comfortable lifestyle, make sure I could go to good schools and be able to attend any university that would have me. They encouraged my passion for books and my desire to write. I decided early on that I would be a writer and later, a journalist. They loved that career for me, because they said, "That's something you can do and still be able to make a nice home for your husband and your children." Hmmmm...that left me feeling that my career came second to my "wifely/motherly duties". I didn't want that. At 21, I wanted to forge a life that I wanted, not what my parents wanted for me. 

It would take thirty-plus years to come to terms with those conflicts within. I wanted a career. Writing was all I'd ever wanted to do, the only thing, in my mind, I was ever good at. But I fell in love when I was 19 and wanted to make a life with him. We had children in our early 30's and because he wanted them to grow up in the country and not the city, I quit my full-time editorial job at a company I loved to stay home and raise them. I didn't mind...so much. It wasn't my kids' fault and with thirty years of maturity, nor do I still blame my husband for that decision. I know now, it was mine. 

It would take sitting in the middle of the desert as I met the San Bushmen women for the first time to realize that women made hard choices. They were given tough tasks; to create a home that provided safety and security, nourishment and love, while finding ways to express themselves, accept appreciation, acknowledgment and support. Women create community. 

In the Bushmen's traditional society, when they were still nomadic, the men chased game and water. They traveled great distances in order to feed their family. Women would follow them, picking up and moving wherever the men would find the most food and water for that season. It's not so different for women around the world. I know for me, I moved around a lot for Peter. He wasn't happy with living in the NorthEast. Affected by the sun, we moved to Florida. He wasn't happy raising our children in the congested city, we moved to the tiny village of Cold Spring. Unhappy with his nine-to-five desk job, we moved to Botswana to manage a game reserve. Each place, I set up our house and made it a home. I made friends and filled our lives with connections and camaraderie. That's what my role as a wife/mother/woman has been. 

Funny, the very women who defined me, were also the catalysts for a whole new me. I saw what the

Traditional ostrich eggshell beaded design with added silver beads.
Ostrich eggshell beads are considered to be proof of human
creative thought, the process dates backover 75,000 years.  

San needed to sustain their way of life, their craft production, and to elevate their community out of poverty. I believed my skill-set could help them. I could help them. Me. 

I saw my many incarnations: writer, wife, mother, activist, and marketer come into play as my new-found mission became clear. I would bring the ostrich eggshell crafts the San women made to a US audience and the products with their backstory would sell themselves! 

But juggling family life and an all-consuming workload, nevermind, a consumer-based career, our life was not easy. Peter and my roles reversed while I had the stores and in addition to running retail, wholesale, and ecommerce sites, I was lucky enough to have been given awards, asked to deliver speeches, workshops and presentations. I was invited to join boards, committees, chair orgs. I was sent to Pakistan, Guatemala, and South Africa to trade shows and to help empower women in those countries, as well. I thrived on the ever-expanding responsibilites of not only propogating my return to the US, the NorthEast, but also the idea of Fair Trade, of women's empowerment, and economic development. 

I saw the work of the women being bought in specialty boutiques, at the many craft shows we attended throughout the country, the open-minded women's associations who saw the value in maintaining women entrapreneurs. It was working. I was working. The women were not being given handouts, but working. They were being appreciated for their talents, getting paid for their skill, and benefitting from their perserverance. 

San Bushmen huts were constructed
and reconstructed by the women. 

International Women's Day was brought to the Poughkeepsie area and I was honored to be a part of the celebration from the beginning. For several years, I had been on the steering committee, had spoken at the event, provided giveaways made by women in Ghana and Cambodia. The Dutchess County Regional Chamber of Commerce's (DCRCOC) Women's Leadership Alliance embraced the concept of a worldwide sisterhood. DCRCOC brought me in as a Key Note speaker for their internationallly recognized Athena Awards, and then the next year, I received the distinction of representing the area at the Athena convention. 

Various indigenous melons served as a
source of water when none was available.
Women were responsible for gathering
vegetagles, fruit, nuts and roots.

Bonus, I was able to share my newly appointed/acquired leadership with my daughter. All along the way, much like the San Bushmen who relay information by showing, telling stories, with first-hand experiences, I was able to bring Macallan with me when she started her own nonprofit, Goody Goodies, by fostering her public speaking with talks for girl scouts and participation in Three Dot Dash, raising money by selling Fair Trade crafts, and her fine art at events she participated in, ones she curated and with the help of her peers, a huge awards gala that they planned and executed. 

As a result, I see my role as having come full circle, yes, in the woman I am today and most thrilling for me, the woman my daughter is growing up to be. She doesn't have to consider a career that will allow her to be a good mom. She is not limited by place based on her partner's locale or her country of origin. She has seen how life is in various situations, countries, cultures and she can appreciate what she has and is grateful, as well as, doing what she can to help those around her. Her nonprofit was set up so that she can make a difference, and at 21 has already: impacted the lives of homeless orphaned children in Botswana, put a girl in Zimbabwe through school, empowered teenage girls to become exceptional role models, and contributes to environmental causes to save endangered animals. 

San Bushmen family re-enacting their "Old Ways" at Trailblazers
Ghanzi, Botswana (Photo credit: Cecilia Dinio Durkin, 2003)

And quite simply, it's been the Bushmen women who have taught me, through their actions what's important for me. In their acceptance of their role as wives, mothers, daughters and friends, they know what they need to do to make their homes, to create their communities. And, the reason it all works is that because their families need the men/the hunters to go out and get the meat and to find the water, they know they need the gatherers/the women to set up their homes, their villages. They have roles they play and they do it willingly because they are equal. Their society doesn't function unless each plays their role. Simple. 

It is 2016 and those roles aren't as clear cut in a larger society as they are in the Bushman's small family groups. And because it is not so clear and our roles in the larger community aren't so equal, I celebrate International Women's Day. 

Look on Women's Work's Facebook page and here for stories about a particular woman I know and love. I'll celebrate their contributions to this wild wonderful world we live in. In my own small way, I'll help bring light to their achievements. Because right now, we are not equal. The opportunities for men and women are not the same. One day, maybe in my daughter's lifetime or her daughter's lifetime, we will be paid the same for the same work and education level, we will have more representation in government, women will be recognized and appreciated for their roles in raising their children and creating community. But right now, unlike the ways of the San Bushmen, we don't have that kind of equality. But one day, maybe we will. For now, we still have a lot to learn from the "First Peoples". 

The Calling

Our yard in Ghanzi, Botswana. The lilac breasted roller is
on the right corner of the arbor. Can you see her? 

I was home alone, sitting in our bedroom, curtains closed, laptop at the ready, not even music to distract me. I was in writing mode.

I’m not sure where everyone was? A rarity, the house was quiet. I don’t even remember having the dogs around or for that matter, the goat.

Maybe everyone evacuated so that I could concentrate on my writing, something that happened on occasion. And because I wasn’t comfortable in isolation, I tended to make poor use of my time, meaning, I often found excuses to do anything and everything besides write. 

And so, it’s not a surprise that I heard a bird outside. Now, there are many birds in Botswana. After several years living there, I tended to tune them out and would have to concentrate to really hear them; the caw of pied crows, our own pigeons cooing, chickens clucking, and a myriad of grackles, swifts, an occasional bird of prey.

Today, this bird seemed insistent, repeating her cry. Waiting. Repeating the deliberate series again and waiting, as if anticipating a response. Curious, as to whom this bird was calling, I went outside to see.

It didn’t take me long to spot her. She was a lilac breasted roller. I could see her brightly colored plumage from across the green expanse of lawn. She sat on the edge of a branch facing our front door, with each gurble, she craned her neck, making her plumb body, long and tall. I stepped outside. She flew closer and perched on a wire a few yards from me. I took a few more steps toward her and she flew a few yards toward me. A thought crossed my mind. She called and I answered. Huh, I thought, but how could I be sure?

This is an actual pic of this encounter. 

The answer came in her response. She flew even closer. Now she landed on our arbor and looked down at me, making eye contact, crooning in my direction. I watched her repeat herself and wished I could understand her. Instinctively, I answered in my own language and much to my surprise, she responded with a different tune. She flew under the arbor and landed on the doorframe. Did she want to go in? No, she was preventing me from doing so. From where she stood, there would be no way for me to open the door.

We regarded each other for some time. I couldn’t help wonder what it was she wanted from me, because by now, we both knew it was me she was calling.

Finally, she flew away and trilled a farewell of sorts.

Little did I know she would visit me the next day and the next. Surprised each time, after she’d left, I wondered if I should I have fed her? I didn’t think to, not knowing how many visits she would pay me. But each time, I thought how special this was. And how lucky I was to be the recipient of this gift.

At the time, I saw the exchange as a reminder of the precious moments we too often take for granted. There would not be any lilac-breasted rollers to see, much less, interact with in the US, where we were headed within the year. It was as if I was being reminded that there are so many things to see, warned not to waste my time behind that computer, writing sequestered away from the very experiences I would document into words. I should go out and see things, hear things, interact.

After all, time flies. Before long, our life in Botswana would be over. We wouldn’t know when we would return, if we would return. I do know that the time we spent drew us out of our comfort zone, into the wilds of Africa where I heard my calling and I answered it.

Today, I think of that little bird. I wish she would have stayed longer. I wished I knew when she’d return. I still wonder what she wanted. I suspect, the reason for her calling would always be a mystery. No matter, the call was for me and I’m so glad I answered it.

Advice for my daughter as she turns 21

Many of Macallan's friends had no trouble believing she
actually met these icons, they think she is that incredible!
Unfortunately, this pic was photoshopped.
(Thanks, Chris Espiritu for the great job!)

Dear Macallan,
Firstly, I love you more than I thought I could ever love anyone.
Secondly, you are a better daughter than I could have ever hoped for.
Thirdly, I love the woman you have become and I look forward to the person you will be.
Fourthly, I can't believe how fast the time has flown; and while I'm sad thinking about you growing up and going away, I am so happy to see that you are ready to make your own decisions, to live your own life.

And with that said, here's some advice:

1.) You are uniquely you, not a mini-me, not a fly-fishing chip off your ole dad, certainly not "just" someone's girlfriend or so-and-so's bff. There is no other Macallan as Macallan-y as you. Single-malt all the way!
Embrace her. Stay true to her. Love her and everyone who knows her will love her too.

2.) Appreciate your talents. Acknowledge them. Honor them. I'm so glad to see you use them!
How many people can draw, take photographs, kiss warthogs, charm chameleon, whisper to coatimundis, while riding Western in a sequined dress holding a gyrfalcon in one hand and reigns in the other as she goes forth to save the world?!?
When you were five and wanted to be a hairdresser/nurse/painter/teacher/mermaid, I knew back then, you were destined for greatness. I'm glad you knew you were talking about various stages in your life, because I thought you meant to do them all at once! While you may not be able to do everything all of the time, be sure to make time to do them - you'll be happier for it.

4.) Speaking of what you're going to "be", I'm sorry to say, I don't know.
You always thought I knew, but I didn't, and I don't.
Yes, the fortune teller I spoke to before we moved to Africa did tell me some things, but what did she know? Nope, I don't really know, and for that matter, you don't know what you will be either. You...we...actually, no one ever knows for sure. Life is funny like that.
     We can only know what we are. So, don't plan on being something...do something instead.

Just like when you were a baby and I was overwhelmed after changing your diaper seventeen times in one day, I was comforted in knowing that life wouldn't always be this way. Whatever you are doing now, I'm glad to tell you, you won't be doing it forever - being broke, getting very little sleep, wondering what bullshit your lab partner in moss identification will pull next. No. The beauty of life at your age are the transitions, the many, many manifestations of your adult-self that is yet to come. Enjoy every one, just as I have enjoyed watching you turn from a smiling baby, to a singing teen, to a self-righteous, opinionated, self-possessed woman. I loved going through it with you! And you should too!

5.) This woman I speak of has a body and hormones that will change over time - they say every seven years.
     Take good care of this human shell. It is tough but fragile. Strong but vulnerable. Watch what you eat, how you step, after banging your head on the leg of your dance partner three times, stop! And for gods sake, appreciate your curves! Baby, it doesn't get any better than this.

6.) ...and relationships too. The bonds you form with girlfriends won't be any closer than they are right now. Cherish and foster the ones that make you feel good, understood, cared for and those you care about. Get rid of the ones that cause drama, doubt, and dump on you out of spite. Life's too short to put up with bitches.

7.) ...or bastards. Get rid of those guys, you know the ones. The ones that dog around, put you down, drag you out and make you lose yourself. And if a guy brings out the worst in you, dump his ass. Life's too short for that kind of bullshit.

8.) What isn't bull, is love. There's plenty of time to fall in love and be in love. If you're in an exclusive relationship, it should be fun, flirty, romantic, and mutual. Give love. Get love.
     But don't weigh the relationship down with constraints. If it's good enough for now, go with it. Don't make it forever. Sometimes love is situational and that's OK. I was only 21 when I met your dad, so I know. I was prepared to let him go, let him fulfill his dream of going to Alaska or as it turned out, Africa. The best summer of our lives, we always say. Luckily, we had another chance and if I could do one thing over again, I would have enjoyed more and bitched less. I would have accepted what he had to give and not demanded a commitment. As you can see, we're still together 30+ years later so what was I worried about? Think of how great our lives would have been if I wasn't always afraid he'd leave me?
Enjoy what he has to give (whomever he is) and give what you have to him without fear of being hurt. That's what love is. That's what I want for you.

9.) ...Oh, let me rephrase that, that's what I would want for you. See, believe it or not, on a rare occassion, I'm...not...always...right (gulp). I do make mistakes (rare, but true). No, in all seriousness, I should set a better example because one very good lesson to learn is to admit when you are wrong. It's OK to make mistakes. Learn from them. I know, I know. Easier said than done.

10.) Also, easier said, don't be afraid to address an issue, confront a problem, call a bitch out if you have to, try a new hobby, make a new friend. Life's too short for regrets.

11.) Which brings me to time...please don't forget to make time for those you love. They won't always be here but they've been here for you in the past. Make it known that they matter with a phone call, a text, a hug.

12.) ...but alone time is important too. Don't say yes to invites knowing you don't want to go. You'll be doing everyone a favor by staying away instead of being a drag. Respect your own space.

13.) ...and don't let hangry be an excuse to be nasty. We all know I do this first hand, right? It's hard to recognize those low-blood-sugar blues, but try.

14.) And realize when you're going to that place, that space in your mind, in your heart that fills you with doubt and diminishes your shine. Sometimes it's easier to go to that deep dark place than it is to face something new or something that can fail you. Fear lives there and it doesn't like to live alone. Don't let fear take hold.

15.) Instead, gain courage by going to that special, unbroken, ultra safe place. For me, it was my grandmother's kitchen in the Philippines where she would let me help her cook. I felt whole there, not abandoned. Where is that place for you? Keep it close for the times when things aren't going your way. Go there, stay there and soon you'll feel safe enough to emerge stronger, wiser and happier still.

16.) Because, unfortunately, life's "not fair". Things, people, situations can't make you happy. So simple, right? Sorry. But it's true. You won't find happiness out there. Look for happiness within.

Linus and Macallan

17.) And regarding place - we may not have a room for you but there's always space for you in our lives. Don't let our housing, finances, location fool you. We are always here for you, wherever here may be.

Macallan and Clark

18.) And my next to last piece of advice, my sweetheart, my baby, is to see the world for what it is - see the beauty, the beasts, the bigs and the smalls, the pains and the gains and through it all be grateful. Be grateful for the experiences because life, the good and the bad, is worth living. Linus and Clark were worth loving, even if it hurt that much to have to say good-bye.


Less than two months from when you were born, I had lost my brother. I believe with all my heart that I was able to face each day after his death only because of you. It's astonishing how life happens. Who knew that raucous fishing trip where we drank a little too much Macallan would result in you, nine months later, when I needed you the most?

19.) Who knows what life has to offer? My best advice would be to take it, be grateful for it, and live, live, live it like there'll be no tomorrow.

You're 21, and your life has just begun! (Photo: Lindsay S.)

If you would like to give Macallan a present for her birthday, she is raising money for Cheetah Conservation Fund. You can help, here's how:

https://www.etsy.com/listing/266896485/great-shot-pic-of-cheetah

A Shitty Day

This is Maverick. This morning, Maverick pooped in the house
three times, forcing me to come to a very important conclusion about my life. Thank you Maverick.  

It's Monday morning and I wanted to carry my birthday-weekend-high well into this coming week. I wanted to sleep in. But my son texted me. "Can you like get up and go get me some candy for my Physics presentation?" "When is it?" "Can you basically like go right now? My class is at 9:30am."

Oh, don't get me wrong. It's not as if Peter and I partied the weekend away. Hardly. As a matter of fact, we were back at our hotel room before 10pm. We were watching TV when the couple in the next room returned. I know this because I heard every word they uttered, groaned, and well, you get the picture. Their headboard must have been right next to ours. Over the course of the evening, I heard the people upstairs take a shower and the people downstairs repeatedly flush the toilet, all the whiles knowing full well, they could hear us as well.
     It was a cheap hotel. The only one Peter could find on Priceline, his portal of choice when booking a hotel room. Since it was the only one listed in the small town we were going to go, he didn't bother reading the reviews. He should have. It was awful.

Did it spoil my weekend? Nope.

For my birthday on Friday, Peter bought me a couple of sweaters. They were nice. Over the weekend, I proceeded to buy other things I wanted as birthday gifts to myself. They were nicer.
     Was I upset that one of the sweaters he bought looks like the eight I already own or that it didn't fit? No.
     He got mad props for taking me to a weekend destination that I'd longed for but never vocalized. Somehow he knew and that's the best gift of all.

So, still flush with love and happiness, instead of sleeping in as planned, I happily awoke, got dressed, and went to head out to the nearest store to buy my son crucial elements for his impending presentation - candy.
     But no, not so fast.
     First, I had to clean up the three piles of poop my son's dog had left all over the house. I dumped his dumps into the toilet only to clog the drain. I unclogged it, mopped up the spillage, washed my hands, then washed them again and off I went.

     After briefly searching for the least labor-rights violating, most environmentally friendly brands of store-bought candy, I debated whether or not I had time to get some coffee too. His class wasn't for an hour. I decided I did.
     But then, coffee in hand, as I turn the ignition, nothing happens. No lights, no radio, no power. OH no!
     I repeatedly push the gear shift into place. I turn the steering wheel. I flip the ignition. Nothing. Nothing. Nah...Then mysteriously, it clicks and I am saved from having to call my husband in Brooklyn to ask what I should do. I am free to accomplish this task that seemed so simple but this morning is nearly unsurmountable. And much to my surprise, I'm still in a damn good mood.

I drop off the candy, come home, post on FB about this ridiculous day (It's only 9:00am, mind you!), when after responding to a comment, I realize, yes. That's it!
     "Shit happens." I wrote Dolly. Yes, it does.
    Sometimes, there are no explanations. There are no good reasons, that we are aware of. Most times, things happen and we can either accept them, be haunted by them, be controlled by them or we can shrug our shoulders and decide not to take on that burden and go about our day.
     The world will keep turning. Your life will most likely keep going. And you will survive.
     How you choose to feel about it, that's totally up to you. I know, I know, it sounds simple (Psst! At 52, I now know, it is! It really is!) and not everyone reaches this conclusion at the same time. But trust me. Take a look at a situation (good and bad) and practice seeing both ways. Conceiveably, every situation has a good and bad side. You keep doing that and keep recognizing the positive, slowly you start to not only believe that the world is on your side, you actually stop feeling the negative.

Shit happens. It certainly does. But, you know what? You can pick that shit up, throw that shit out, decide not to give a shit and move on..That's what I choose to do. Get rid of the shit and move on.

Birthdays from Hell.

It's the eve of my birthday. 

I have a funny feeling every year this date rolls around.

Since marrying Peter, I have had an issue with my birthday. It seemed to matter more than ever that he recognize the day of my birth more than anyone else. For some reason, his acknowledging it meant more than any birthday party my mom would throw for me, birthday celebration my friends would show me or birthday wish my children bestowed on me.

One year, I asked to take a writing class. Instead, he got me a night at the Ritz Carlton. I was heart broken.

One year, he showed up at my job in Boca Raton with a cake he baked himself. I was embarrassed.

Another year, my 40th year, he offered to throw me a party, inviting all of our friends in Gaborone, but a few days before, I was so mad at him, I cancelled it giving our "pending divorce" as the reason.

Then, two years ago, he got things right. Was it that he brought me flowers - not the long stemmed roses he'd bought me one year, but the tulips I had asked for? Did he pick out a beautiful timeless sweater instead of a tight-ill fitting one that I made him return? I can't even tell you the details because I don't remember. The next year, the same. He 'nailed it', as one of my son's friends has been known to say.

What did he do differently? I don't know. Maybe it was the year that lead up to the birthday? Maybe he paid closer attention to me. Maybe he was present when he was with me, instead of closed off and distant. Maybe he showed me how much he loved me and enjoyed my company. Or maybe, now I could see, hear, and feel these sentiments and most importantly, believe them.

How many birthdays, anniversaries, holidays, weekends...moments, really, throughout our lives together had I refused to see, feel, believe the love he gave me? Why spend so much time worrying, wondering, and wasting love? Why, indeed.

I'm over 50 this year. Plenty of birthdays behind me and hopefully plenty ahead. But reality is that there are far more in the past then in the future and when I look back, I hope I remember the glamor of a night at the Ritz, the decadence of the delicious mocha chocolate frosting, the party that took place anyway because our friends rallied behind me during an especially vulnerable year.

As I look forward, I have no idea what the future holds, but I know, I have much to look forward to.
I have experienced amazing, sad, fun, funny, and mysterious things. Just in the past year, I've lost an aunt, two adoring and adored pets, signed on to start a new project, further released my able and amiable daughter into the world, thanks to his GoPro, watched my son smash his handsome face into the side of a mountain and listen to the Pediatrician tell him he's lucky he didn't lose an eye, got a puppy, gave my husband the beginnings of my long overdue memoir, and called myself a writer, once again.

At 52, my son will get his driver's license and finally face the dreaded college admissions process, my daughter will turn 21, my mom faces cancer treatment on the heels of her sister dying of 'complications brought on by cancer', and with the love of my life and the best friend I could ever hope for, we'll be fixing up a tiny cabin in a hundred acre wood so that he can fish, so that I can write.

Good and bad, it's going to one hell of a year!