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I typically don’t possess an unyielding position on societal decorum as, I have learned, one’s propensity towards doing things are generally dictated by familial experiences. And who am I to suggest that my way is correct. How often do we judge a person’s actions before we have come to understand their reasoning? And how often do we condemn before questioning our own culpability? I can appreciate differing ideologies due to cultural and/or religious disciplines. I can even concede to objectionable behavior because of one’s circumstances. And over time, I have sorely recognized that things are never quite as they appear. But all that wisdom aside, there is only one way to hang toilet paper. It matters not on your sexual orientation or your religious or cultural upbringing. It matters not on your ethnicity or political allegiance. It’s a matter of science. And given our pandemic circumstances that we are currently living under today, this issue matters. ...

I was a law clerk for Judge L. Leonard Ruben in the Montgomery County Circuit Court when I first came across the expression, " This Too Shall Pass ". The quote was framed and hung in the Judge's chambers, purposely situated on the wall just before the door that led to the courtroom. It stood alone so as to deny any conflicting focal point. It was the first and last thing you saw before the start of court, as if to say, " no matter what, we have tomorrow." Those four simple words, its origins dating back to King Solomon, and more recently, to Abraham Lincoln during his inaugural address, were just enough to remind me that nothing is permanent. And somewhat subconsciously, it became my mantra. I found myself reciting this expression with frequency to my kids whenever they would complain about their current situations, whether it be a teacher at school who, according to them, grades assignments unfairly or having to suffer through the...

After many years of denying our boys the benefit of a dog, we caved. It’s been eleven years since we brought Baxter home, a dog that we were misguided into believing would top off at twenty-five pounds has since added an additional forty to his frame, not because of overfeeding, but because of natural growth. Apparently, his paws were a dead give-away to our vet at the first appointment, that Baxter easily would double his size. A lab and poodle mix, more poodle-like facial features, with a coat of knotted black hair except for a speckle of white hidden under his chin, he has been constantly mistaken for “ that-dog-like-the-Obamas-have” breed because of his stocky stature and full face. His eyes are deep set and can get lost behind his hair when I’m late with his grooming, but it’s part of his charm and mystique and partly because of not wanting him to look like a poodle. There was no doubt in my mind that the energy that our kids exerted in their efforts to persuade us, woul...

To think that living until the age of 100 is no longer a fantastical goal is quite astonishing. And to think that I am closer to that once fantastical age than I am to that once whimsical age of twenty is equally astonishing if not a bit daunting. Given that refection, then hell yes I want to live to see 100. But really, do I? What would that look like? What would I look like, and who would it benefit? As I sit in reflection, I vividly remember as a senior in college speculating what it would be like in the year 2000, the year of my 40th birthday. What will I have accomplished? Will I be married? With children? Will I be successful? What exactly did I envision myself doing? And more importantly, with whom will I be doing it with? Back then, that twenty-year span, from my senior year to my 40th birthday seemed elusive, too distant to ruminate. In fact, so much so that I made a pact with a male friend of mine that if neither of us were married by our 40th, we ...

“I’ve got this, Mom,” proudly declared my twenty-one-year-old youngest when the two of us went for lunch, as he then proceeded to whip out his credit card with a bit of bravado. I couldn’t help but feel the pride and gratitude of knowing we did something right in our parenting. Here he was, on the eve of his senior year of college, extolling his independence and possibly his own gratitude for what we have provided him. As an aside, what we provided him was a credit card in his name with the statement mine to pay. “ But that’s tangential to the point,” as I tried to explain to my husband, a financial advisor no less, who found my take on it to be quite humorous if not a bit naive. “ Do you really think you’re teaching him financial independence by paying his bills, ” he rhetorically added. A real mood killer… Financial independence is one of the primary markers used to define adulthood, according to a 2019 study by Merrill Lynch of 2,700 young adults, ages 18-34, coincidentally, the...

Can you feel any older than when sitting poolside at a very boutiquish hotel in a very trendy part of Miami and not know one song that the DJ has played for the last 2 hours? Yes. Yes you can… especially when sitting poolside and unable to extricate yourself from the chaise because it’s only an inch off the ground and you don’t have the leverage to elevate yourself up. I know what you’re thinking… how in the hell did I get myself down there in the first place. It took some soul searching and a little handholding, literally, handholding. You know it’s a deep plummet when you drop your belongings onto the chaise, and they bounce back up from the kinetic energy of the fall. My goal was not to bounce back up. After scoping my surroundings to confirm no one was staring in my direction… who am I kidding… no one was staring in my direction… and with my own self pride at stake, I grabbed my husband’s hand and gently lowered myself into position. It was more of a squ...

Who I am partially reflects how I was raised by my parents. It was about priorities, but it was unquestionably all about family. From Sunday night dinners around my parents’ dining table, never with less than several extended family members and friends who were welcomed as family, to holiday meals that were always inclusive and more of a social gathering. Hosting 45 people was commonplace in our house even if that meant finding seating on the ledge of the bathroom tub or on the staircase separating the two floors of our 1,200-square-foot split-level house. Who I am is as simple as a Sunday. It’s my mother marching me into the Sunday School principal’s office to admonish him for extending classes an additional two hours, as it interfered with family time and then withdrawing me from school that very day. Who I am is due to my own parents saying “yes” more than “no”. Its due to all the travel they did and all the hours and expense of lessons and matches they endured just so I ...

Everything changed for me on October 7th, 2024, surprisingly even more so than when we experienced the horrific terrorist attack on September 11, 2001. We all watched with utter disbelief as news outlets showed real-time footage of the mid-air strikes of both twin towers followed by their unfathomable collapse. The entire nation was alarmed by the images of people running for their lives and of people running to protect lives. Never had we witnessed such brutality and disregard for human life on American soil. But then on September 12th, 2001, this country became one. We were horrified by the atrocities and yet we were unified because of them. We were bonded by the collective loss of innocent lives as well as by our collective sense of patriotism. The world's response to the evils of 9/11 was one of solidarity as reflected by the French newspaper's, Le Monde, headline, We are all Americans today. There was a collective commitment amongst our allies to protect...

     When did my cardiologist become younger than me? For that matter, how is it I even need a cardiologist? I now take these little pale, yellow pills for cholesterol. I have parents who take pills for cholesterol. I shouldn't be taking pills for cholesterol. And these so-called answers to my cholesterol are no larger than the size of a pinhead. What can that honestly do for me? My heart is much larger than that.     Just this past week while watching the NCAA's March Madness with my husband, the announcer, who no doubt was much younger than me, was providing historical data about a college basketball team who had just upset a number one seed. Apparently this team hadn't been to the NCAA tournament in over forty years.  Wow, that's like a lifetime ago, at least for the players and, it hurts me to admit, most of the broadcasters. That statistic was soon followed with, " and that was in the 80's" . Wait, what ? That's not a lifetime ago. That's like...