I left my phone in a NYC cab this weekend and it was mailed back to me yesterday with the help of a friendly cab driver and the technology of iCloud. This gives me hope in humanity and technology.
The guy who found it said: “My father always told me that if you pick something from street, that’s my responsibility to send it back. I am doing what I learned from my parents.”
A kind of achievement, William Carlos Williams said. Or a curse, said the man who couldn’t get the phone book out of his head. Speak, Nabokov asked of his. Which it tends to, if we invoke it often enough. Imagination is its most important friend, selecting, coloring, casting aside. Without imagination, an endlessness, like my colleague’s story of his summer by the lake when he listed birds and his wife was tortured by a lingering cold; he told me so much I didn’t know what I’d been told. More and more I forget what I need, and remember what I’d like to forget. And sometimes I keep talking, keep recalling, as a way of not saying what I feel. Memory’s law: what we choose to say about our past becomes our past. That other past, the one we’ve lived, exists in pieces that flicker and grow dim. I can buy memory in a store called Circuit City. I can press search, and find a fact, a person, but not what I’ve most dearly lost. Every time I save I exclude.
(Shared by Becky Gambale in honor of National Poetry Month)
Letters to my Dad
There are so many times during the day I find myself saying, “Oh Dad would have loved this!” Or “too bad Dad couldn’t be here!” Or straight out talking to him like a crazy person. I know I’m definitely not the only one who does this because he marked so many people throughout his life.
My awesome sister finally did something about it and is collecting her own letters to Mark Hudon in a blog. You should check it out!
Hey Dad, remember when I would come home from spring break and you would take your lunch break with me and watch reruns on MTV with me…and we would go check out lighthouses in NH, antiques in Essex and walk around Salem pretending to be tourists. Those were the best spring breaks! xoxo
One Family's Journey with Sagittal Synostosis
This is Momcore! Tai shares her emotions, heartaches and blessings along the way as she deals with her infant daughter’s journey with sagittal synostosis.
Globe Readers And Non-profits Together
Are you a Boston Globe subscriber? A friend or family member one? If so - they should have received a “GRANT” certificate in their paper recently.
These certificates entitle the 501 (c) (3) organization they specify to $50 worth of advertisement in the Globe. The more vouchers, the more credit the organization gets! PLEASE if you received one of these or know someone who has, encourage them to put down the “Pancreatic Cancer Action Network - Boston Affiliate”.
Ice fishing in the land of the way things outta be.