When A Woman Starts To Disentangle Herself

My Mother's Life Was Way Too Heavy For Me.

Sometimes You Want To Fall On Your Knees And Thank God In Heaven For All The Poor News Reporting That Goes On In The World.

Finally, I Began To Write About Becoming An Older Woman And The Trepidation It Stirred. The Small, Telling "betrayals" Of My Body. The Stalled, Eerie Stillness In My Writing, Accompanied By An Ache For Some Unlived Destiny. I Wrote About The Raw, Unsettled Feelings Coursing Through Me, The Need To Divest And Relocate, The Urge To Radically Simplify And Distill Life Into A New, Unknown Meaning.

How Often Do We Do That, He Wondered--look At Someone And Fail To See What's Really There?

Regrets Don't Help Anything.