Monday, April 15, 2019


The daffs are busting out all around town.

They're always first, and they always rock.

Everything will follow suit soon, everything will be gorgeous and beautiful and spectacular and will show us their own specific awesomeness and beauty and largess.

But those daffs, man.

They show us the next thing is coming. New growth, something from nothing, green after brown, yellow after grey . . .

I don't pretend to know anything. Because, as a matter of fact, I know nothing.

Except for this. Seasons change. Growth happens. Things bloom. There is nothing we can do but watch and marvel.

And the Daffs, as they always do, lead the way.

Monday, April 8, 2019

Our Young Friend

This young friend of ours.

This kid.

We adore him.

He is just so nice.

And he is absurdly adorable.

He is sometimes contemplative . . .

. . . especially when he's observing Nature in the Field . . .

. . . the kid loves the Field.

And what's not to love?

Yay Field!

. . . and Yay for clapping.

The kid is bucketloads of joy . . .

. . . and we get to have him as our friend.

And he is right on the cusp of running headlong toward his next adventure.

Look out, world.

Monday, April 1, 2019

So Much Love

When we were celebrating Young James' life in San Diego in January, our cousins planned a mass and luncheon to celebrate Jimmy on the East Coast -- they all wanted deeply to commiserate, and empathize, and connect, but were so far away. We were so touched and moved by that idea -- this family of ours, man, it's good.

It was January in Boston, though. Therefore: one ton of snow. And postponement . . .

. . . until yesterday.

photo courtesy of Monica G.

It's difficult to articulate the dynamic of this family, and its deep loyalty, and the fathoms of its love. Yesterday Mistah and I shared a table with my Mom's sibs Uncle Brian (#11) and Auntie Ginny (#13 of 13) -- and Mom too -- #7! -- and the effervescent Patti (cousin #5 -- we had to fight to get her) and MB (#11) (I'm #19, of course, of 66), then caught up with my cousins, and my cousins' spouses, and my cousins' kids, and even my cousin's grandkid -- we had infants and 80-somethings there yesterday, and everyone is just all so deeply in love.

And we were all there for Jimmy. And Jacquie. And Clara.

The pain was right there with the love, and we talked and hugged and talked and cried and talked and laughed and talked. And hugged.

I wish I could figure out a way to make everything better. I wish I could figure out a way to make everything different. I can't. But I can hug these people fiercely, be thankful for the love they give, and look forward to getting together the next time. For a much longer amount of time. Because as my brilliant and beautiful cousin Betty (#6) put it, we desperately need some "in depth cousining".

Here's to James. Here's to his forever being #64 of 139 -- soon to be 141 -- in the third generation in this incredible family of ours.

We love you, kiddo. All these beautiful people do.
And we miss you like crazy.