Suprise Me

Mother’s Day 1985,  Van Courtlandt Park After the lunch and the long-stemmed rose,  we stopped in the park for a catch.  My husband took the baseball gloves from the trunk of the car and tossed one to each of us. “Both of you spread out.”   he said,  and so obediently we each trotted across… Read More

Ah, comedy. The universal language of amusement, the oil that keeps the gears of social interaction turning smoothly (except when it throws monkey wrenches into those gears, but that’s part of the fun, right?). Laughter has been echoing through caves and amphitheaters since well before punchlines were even a twinkle in some early human’s eyes.… Read More

He took a bite and chewed it, slowly and deliberately, as the rest of us talked. Then another. Read More

Upon reaching the age of three, what does a little boy expect from his dad? Read More

When I bemoaned some terrible day I had had, she probably did say "there'll be days like this". . . but you'll get through them. Read More

In the summer, the dense greenery along the Potomac River covers houses, streets, and history.  We moved to the area in 1966 and slowly discovered some unexpected treasures--the towpath along the abandoned C & O canal, Sycamore Island, the old settlement of Cabin John, the Clara Barton house.  The Glen Echo Amusement Park. Read More

A women I didn’t recognize came up to me after class in the gym last year. “Are you Betsy from Brandeis?” Guess so. Turns out we were classmates, sort of. She had transferred into my class our sophomore year, but graduated a year after me, so I really did not know her. But somehow, she… Read More

A summer love affair with a flimsy VW camper-bus. Read More

  Retrospect – The Altar Boy’s Story By Kevin J. W. Driscoll (c) 2025 Preface: Faith is a funny thing. It’s not always about answers—it’s often about the questions that linger, the doubts that echo, the moments that shape who we become. For me, growing up in mid 20th century Boston, faith was woven into… Read More

My experience in returning to Lake Placid that late afternoon encapsulated the rightness of my choice. Read More