Brave souls slip off the masks and unbuckle the armor. We step out and onto the illuminated stage, giving voice to our words. Purposeful and distinct, we tell our truths while above us paper lanterns dance to our pulsing vibrato. The sound of language gives texture and richness to our written stories now shared with eager ears in a tiny auditorium.
Tears inside me
Tears welled from deep inside me and clung like rain drops upon my cheeks after reading Last Night from the Hospital, by Bob Lonsberry. He made me feel like I was there with Bernadette Lynch and her family. Too soon Bernadette’s light, a high and bright burning flame will flicker out. When Bernadette lost her son Michael …
Rochester Fringe Festival Features Listen to Your Mother: Mama Said
This year’s Key Bank Rochester Fringe Festival ushers in heartfelt stories about the humor, messiness, joys, sorrows, and wisdom that motherhood brings with LISTEN TO YOUR MOTHER: Mama Said. I’m excited to share that I will join the cast of eight women who will share stories of motherhood at Writers & Books for two hour-long …
Rochester Fringe Festival Features Listen to Your Mother: Mama SaidRead More
Tuning out the news
Some days I just can’t take reading or hearing the news. I mean how many stories can a person take about #DWIJudge, or #dumb thingstrumpsays, or reality shows, or worse: reality.
Searching in the dark
Searching in the dark: As a parent, hearing about the death of a child by any means is heartbreaking.
Where I need to be
Minutes before the start of my son’s soccer game, I cried. I gasped for breath when I read the news that Michael Patrick Lynch had died. Michael was the Irondequoit teen who was struck by a car while crossing the street on his way to school.
Three words and forty days
Selecting three words helps keep me focused on goals I want to achieve and habits I want to start in the new year.
15 lessons for 15 years
The following letter—15 lessons for 15 years—I wrote to my son on his 15th birthday, January 9, 2017. I left the letter on my son’s pillow. After he read it, he came to my room, gave me a hug and said: “Thank you.” I felt like a large stone was caught in my throat and I struggled …
