When I Grow Up…

I have always wanted to be a writer ever since the fourth grade when I wrote my first short story about a house in the winter woods.  My uncle Henry paid me a few bucks for writing it and I was hooked!  But over the years I have struggled with the ‘why’ of my desire to write. Continue reading “When I Grow Up…”

Letting Go

If you are a parent, especially a parent of a teenager, you will understand.  I have two sons, one who is nineteen and one who is sixteen.  And though one is an official adult and the other almost an adult, I still cannot cut those apron strings.  Why?  Because it is hard to let go. Continue reading “Letting Go”


My fondest memories are those of my strong-willed and feisty maternal grandmother.  Looking for a better life for her remaining family, my widowed grandmother came to America in the fall of 1951 from what was then the country of Yugoslavia.  She had lost both her husband and her eldest son to the horrors of war and its aftermath.  AddingContinue reading “Remembrance”