The Postscript

Second Sunset

I tell my parents I admire the life they have created for themselves. They have this great cabin, fun friends and neighbors, they bike all summer, ski all winter and, at the end of every day, they get an extra sunset.

Raising the Roof

While I’m certainly not wishing for the roof to fall in on anyone, I’m not sure it’s been such a bad thing.

Blessings in Disguise

My blessings are poorly disguised. They show up wearing false noses and funny eyeglasses and are instantly recognizable unless I am being completely thick-headed—and it is astonishing how often I am.

Good Pear

It turned out I’d been wasting a lot of good pear, but that stopped under Mrs. Johnson’s tutelage.

More Owls

The rent was suspiciously cheap, but the reviews were all good except to say that the house was on a road with stairs. There is a good reason for this: the town predates wheels.

Summer Birthdays

Somewhere near the middle of our vacation, usually just after we’d reached our destination, my birthday would arrive.

An Awful Lot of Cheese

My parents, who buy little tiny blocks of cheese which they cut into little tiny slices and serve on little tiny crackers at precisely five o’clock every evening, were understandably taken aback by the arrival of twenty pounds of cheese.

The Kind of Dog I Am

I imagined I was sort of a golden retriever mix. I was a cool dog, a chill dog. I am actually nothing at all like this.

Slow Travelers

I used to take pride in traveling light. I fit all my clothes and everything I needed in a small backpack or a carry-on suitcase and hit the road with little idea of where I was going. Then I met Peter.

Blooming Late

We might be starting from scratch, but we’ve got a head start. We might be trying something new, but we get credit for time served.

Forever Home

The farmhouse is where I thought I’d grow old. I planted a lot of trees. I had a garden. I painted every wall, inside and out. I thought there was a strong likelihood I’d die in that house. Now I’ve put it up for sale.

Unexpected Cowboy

I have no cowboy credentials. So, when Bob suggested I perform with a cowboy singer, I was more than skeptical—I thought it was a dumb idea.

A Night at the Funeral Home

The funeral home had been converted into an Airbnb. It was on our way—and suspiciously cheap.

Smelling Like Dog

A dog keeps us tethered in the here and now and reminds us that we are living in this moment—and that every moment in the future is imaginary.

In Defense of Pollyanna

More than once in my life, I’ve been accused of having a “Pollyanna attitude.” I didn’t actually know what this meant, except that it was not a good thing.

Learning to Whistle

I don’t think I have envied many people many times in my life, but I very much wanted to whistle when I was six.

Push-Ups With Bob

I thought things were going pretty well until I remembered the push-ups—and Bob.

Not Popular

I now realize that no one—not even the most popular person in high school—self-identifies as popular.

Dusty Surprises

My heart hurt, reading this forty-year-old letter. I wondered if I wrote back. I hoped he was doing well.

Made to Last

My grandma’s wedding dress was more than a little worse for wear. It had been folded up in a small box and kept safe by my cousin, Jill. (How Jill ended up with it, I do not know.)