When I began assembling a collection of my stories to include here, I found that each one begged for revision. A number of my feature articles were too magazine-y in tone and needed to be reshaped into memoir. Others, when further examined with my poet’s eye, had become too pretentious after being culled by careful editors and gave off the full-bodied notion that as a mother I had things all figured out, which of course I don’t.
Today as a mother and grandmother my life in no way resembles what I had hoped for, or expected it to be, and yet I can honestly tell you I deeply value and am thankful for where this journey has led me. And now that my kids are grown (my youngest is 34) I enjoy seeing how my perspective has evolved and changed over the past three decades.
My special thanks to the editors where these pieces originally appeared.
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