At four or five years of age, Dinah Jane made a proclamation. “Nana,” she said, “ONE day, when you get LITTLE and I get BIG, I’m going to push you around in your wheelchair.” I didn’t mark the proclamation day on the calendar, but it may have been the day …
Something happens on one’s inside when the season of grandparenting arrives. (Something happens on one’s outside too, but that’s a subject for another column.) In the classic children’s book, The Velveteen Rabbit, by Margery Williams, a stuffed toy rabbit, who had observed real live rabbits playing in the garden, asks a …
The school’s empty staff room seemed a perfect place to lull a baby to sleep. I sat in a big old armchair, my tiny grandson resting on my lap. In the gym down the hall his parents and their fellow cast members rehearsed for the upcoming community musical. Fragments of …
