Tuesday, January 20, 2015

For a friend who’s gone

How do you honor a friend who leaves too soon?
Someone who is kind without expectation of reciprocation.
Someone with a sense of humor that keeps you on your toes.
Someone who radiates goodness.
Someone who is incredibly creative and who knows that love is in the details.
Someone who appreciates all the small gestures and loves the big ones too. 
Someone who brought beauty to everything….really, everything.
Someone who makes you feel like you matter, no matter what.
Someone who put others before herself.

Some will make a contribution in your name, others will keep you in their heart, and many will be there for your husband and children as the years pass.

I hope some of us will also let you live on through our acts of kindness. Nothing would honor you more.

Thursday, April 3, 2014


I cried when Johnny Carson retired. I know I’ll cry harder when Dave broadcasts his last show in 2015. I’ve watched him for over 30 years…ever since he had the morning show. Yes, the summer I was 21 and looking for a job I watched Dave every morning and wondered why he wasn’t on at night. That quirky, funny, shy, cute, mid-western guy with the bad haircut and the blond eyebrows hooked me.

I remember a few years later a boyfriend asked one of those questions that just gets everyone in trouble: “Who’s your celebrity crush?” Not knowing whom to choose, the then boyfriend threw out names like Harrison Ford and Tom Cruise, to which I replied, “not even close.” And that’s when I realized Dave was my celebrity crush. “DAVE IS!”  As much as he loved Dave too, he questioned my taste in men….and that didn’t bode well for the future of our relationship.

Somewhere in my collection of paper memories, I have a birthday card from a friend that lists the Top Ten Reasons Why Dave Should Marry Me. People who knew me knew Dave found a place in my heart and more importantly my brain. His humor is clever – even when he wore a Velcro suit, threw fruit off the roof, and made us watch stupid pet tricks, he’s smart. He shines when he interviews politicians, newscasters, and authors.  I’ll watch him with Brian Williams, Bill O’Reilly or Tom Brokaw any day. Dr. Phil, Julia Roberts and Howard Stern are probably my top 3 favorite guests though.

Before the DVR and when I could stay up late, I’d watch Late Night every night until 1:30AM. My day could then end. Now, even the 11:30PM Late Show needs to be DVR’d. I’m 30 years older than when I started watching Dave, but it’s hard to understand that he’s 67 years old. He still looks like the quirky, funny, shy, cute, mid-western guy with the bad haircut and the blond eyebrows.

My son and I watched the first night Jimmy Fallon hosted the Tonight Show and I said to Zach, “remember this night…in 30 or so years you’ll sit with your children, marvel when Jimmy retires and tell them you remember him when.” 

Tuesday, September 10, 2013

I remember...

Originally posted 2 years ago...still feels the same now.

It's four days until the 10th anniversary of the day it all changed. Ten years can feel like such a long time ago, but in a moment I can be brought back to that morning.

I can remember every moment of the day and the days that followed.

I remember...dropping Zach at day two of kindergarten.
I remember...walking down Park Avenue to work and thinking the sky never looked this blue.
I remember...my friend Tanya calling to tell me the Trade Center had been hit by a plane.
I remember...not having a radio or CNN newsfeed, and only wanting to watch the Today Show.
I remember...Tanya calling back, now screaming the other Tower was hit by another plane.
I remember...being relieved that I hadn't gotten the job at One World Trade Center the year before.
I remember...stepping outside to smoke a cigarette and someone yelled, "the Pentagon has been hit."
I remember...deciding to pick Zach up from school and us going home to be safe.
I remember...being glued to CNN, as Zach watched cartoons in the other room.
I remember...my breath being taken away as the first Tower fell.
I remember...Zach's school receiving bomb threats.
I remember...feeling so anxious of what was going to happen next and when.
I remember...the wind changing, and the burning smell of downtown lingering on my terrace.
I remember...how I couldn't stop crying and still today cannot think about that day without crying.
I remember...watching this video over and over and feeling unimaginably sad.

But what I want to remember, is the kindness and good I saw in the people of New York. 

Tuesday, August 27, 2013


It's been 40 years since we met in seventh grade. 

We spent a lot of time together with equal time apart.

We grew up together.

We smoked apples for the first time in your room. Benson & Hedges apples.

We bought lavender hip hugger landlubbers, huck-a-poo shirts and hideous high heels.

We celebrated your sweet 16…“Does Macy’s tell Gimbels?”

We ran around Nice, Paris and London after we graduated from Dalton.

I still put Q-tips in silver cups and tissues in baskets.

I was your maid of honor and you were my matron of honor.

I was so proud of you when you received your MFA.

You were the first person I left Zach with when he was born.

Your paintings have always hung in my living room. We used to think Zach liked them so much because they looked like eyes watching over him.

There’s a little comfort in thinking that’s what they’re doing now for you.

Sunday, July 14, 2013

2 boys

Sybrina Fulton and I share something special. We each gave birth to a son in 1995. She in February and I in September. I’ve spent the last 17 years worrying about my son’s safety – SIDS, choking on a grape, falling in the park, riding a bike, crossing the street, flying in a plane, getting mugged, being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Never once were my fears based on the color of his skin.

I’ve spoken with moms of color who tell me about the angst they feel when they think about the conversation they must have with their sons…save the receipt for that pack of gum so you’re not accused of stealing, be respectful if stopped by the police… To hear the mom of an 8 year old speak about the safety of her soon-to-be teenage son is nothing short of tragic and horrifying, and a fear this country should have already erased by now.

When the verdict came in last night, I looked at my son and my heart broke for Sybrina Fulton.  I can hug my son and tell him I love him, but it was impossible to look at him and not think of Trayvon.