Darby Girl's Perspective

It is my birthday. It is nearly Thanksgiving. The two celebrations dance around one another each year, occasionally landing on the same day. That is appropriate. Being born. Being present another year. Even the tough years, I am grateful for the experience of being alive. Born and reborn again as time changes some things, but not everything. At least not at once.   So, on the anniversary of my birth, I wish to thank the people who make this fragile but resilient thing, we call life, a happy one for me. For the gifts they give me each day of the year. Thank you to my children, Ali & Mark, who have grown into adults who rescue kittens, help old people, say hello to everyone and are optimistic about the future. You give me hope. Thank you to my partner, Caesar, who walks alongside me even when I am literally and figuratively tripping over myself. I can’t think of a more patient person willing to consider my “brilliant ideas” nor a more adventurous companion to m...

I was in the basement storeroom tonight, looking for something that I never found. Instead, I came across this, the eulogy I wrote and presented at Mark's funeral in May 2000. Maybe he wanted to remind me and you and all of us one more time.  Mark was an optimist. When we were just married and our basement flooded with two feet of water, he joked that we had the first row house with an indoor pool. Then he rolled up his sleeves and cleaned the place up. Mark was a man you could count on to get the job done and who found pleasure in the doing. In turn, those around him found themselves laughing too. His good humor was infectious. Mark was gentle. I think Mark plucked his gentleness form nature itself. I would watch him in the last light of a long, summer day standing by the lake at our campsite. Fishing pole in hand. He'd throw his head back, scan the cloudless sky and sigh. His peaceful moment broken by the shouts of Ali and Mark who caught yet another sunny and Big Ma...