Sixty Five

     For the past year, my husband, Henry, has been humming the Beatles’ song, “When I’m 64.” In a profound state of anxiety, he sings:  When I get older, losing my hair, many years from now, will you still be sending me a valentine, birthday greetings, bottle...

The Perpetual Child

     While I may lament (along with legions of other parents), that my “adult” children are growing up so slowly it’s like watching paint dry, at least there’s hope they will one day be independent.  Not so with our dog, Sparky, who remains a perpetual child even at...

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