The Measure Of My Mother
As a daughter, there were always three sure things in my life. Death, taxes and the deep, passionate love my parents have always had for each other. So it seems fitting that every year my parents’ May 11th wedding anniversary occurs near Mother’s Day and Father’s Day. Because from my perspective, they are who they are as individuals and parents, then and now, because of their love, their commitment, their devotion to, and their bond with each other, first and foremost. Although their marriage has not always been easy, their love transcended all circumstances and has always been the solid foundation of our family dynamic. But this year, my mother…
A Tale of Two Widows
The other day I was scrolling Facebook when I came across a post that knocked the breath out of me. My neighbor Amy had unexpectedly lost her husband a few days previously. I was in shock and disbelief. It’s one of those things that you hear about and can’t believe it; that your brain struggles to make sense of before eventually giving up because it simply cannot process how this could ever happen. I met Amy at a neighborhood get together shortly after we moved into the neighborhood. She and I hit it off. She immediately and warmly reached out to me repeatedly, making me feel so included, something I…
Contemplating What Could Have Been
Because yesterday was my parents 47th wedding anniversary and today is Mother’s Day, this weekend would be celebratory regardless. But this year in particular it is truly something to appreciate. My mother—my healthy, vibrant, active, vegetarian, teetotaling, slender, yoga-teaching, meditating, dear mother—had a heart attack five weeks ago. When my father Skyped me at 10:30pm EST, I knew something was wrong. He informed me that my mother was in the hospital and they were testing her for possible cardiac issues based on the initial EKG readings. Both of my parents were convinced it was a severe case of gastro-intestinal distress. But after several days of feeling terrible with what she…
Moving Forward, Not Moving On
“Are you ready to taste wine?” asked Bill Frick, owner of Frick Winery. Frick Winery is a boutique winery in Dry Creek Valley, near Sonoma, California, and my favorite winery. I had insisted we visit it on our one day wine-tasting trip back in March. “Yes!” the four of us chorused. He placed three tasting glasses on the counter, and then he said, “I have a special glass for Pritam.” He placed another glass on the counter. I glanced at it, and noticed a telltale small black bag from Edmonds’ Comstock Jewelers inside of it. In an instant, I knew what was about to happen and I started freaking out.…
Life’s Second Chances
“The afternoon knows what the morning never expected.”—Robert Frost About three weeks after Dan died, I went down the FIVE Restaurant, one of my “safe” places. I met this woman there, with whom I shared my story over (several) glasses of wine. I’ll never forget, she looked at me and said, “You’ve known a great love. You’ll know another.” I couldn’t even imagine it, at that time. All I wanted was Dan Potts back, alive and well. It was the worst and most painful experience of my life grieving the death of my husband. And I was hurting. Bad. I knew somehow people had survived this so I thought I…
