There Is No Pattern





Do you know what the pattern is?  No, you do not, because there is no pattern.

You graduate from college a semester late.  Your mother angrily advises you not to marry him, but you get married anyway.

The promotions come.  Melbourne, Richmond, Bartlesville, Jackson, Memphis.  Until the closures come.

You never really wanted a baby (gasp), but there she was, all puffy and pink and amazing.

You quit work and threw yourself into motherhood with conviction and desperation to craft every detail perfect, sublime and well groomed.

But here’s the thing.  Your hair is turning white.  That man you should not have married still makes you smile and feel all beautiful inside.  And that amazing baby is a way more awesome young woman.

When you think it is Spring
It snows
Big, beautiful, sparkly flakes float down from Heaven
There is no pattern
All we really get is love.




Speeding Tickets



At 4, she would bolt across the street.
“Look both ways!”  I called.

First day of school, watching that blonde head,
She never looked back.

Basketball, cross country
Always striving.

Half marathon,
A metaphor, of course she placed.

We bought her a car.
Speeding tickets.

Job during college.
Got promoted.

She never hesitated.
Not that I could see.

“Fly, be free!” I used to say.
She enlisted.




Yep, I Heard You

When I was 27, and newly promoted to branch manager, I was quietly ushered to an office, door shut, to be told that I probably would not close on as many loans or accounts as my peers, because, well, I was a woman and “people like to discuss finances with men.”

Yep, I heard you.

When I was 31, and thinking of posting for a promotion to a position in the mortgage department, I was told by the bank president himself that I “did not have the right body parts.”

Yep, I heard you.

When I was 51, and running in my neighborhood one lovely, sunny morning, I was laughed at by a male neighbor and was told what a waste of time running was. Sneering as he drove away, he called out, “go, go, go!”

Yep, I heard you.

Last night U.S. Sen. Elizabeth Warren was stopped from reading a letter by Coretta Scott King during hearings for the nomination of Sen. Jeff Sessions for AG.  Senator Warren was “impugning” Senator Sessions.

Yep, I heard you.

Who is impugning who?  And I have one more… should not write this, but I am angry, frustrated and embarrassed by our government right now…my daughter is a United States Marine.  Females make up just 7% of the USMC, but you know what? Those female Marines may help save our collective ass some day, and I bet no one will turn them away then.




That beautiful blonde head is shipped around the world by acronyms that even if I know what they stand for, I will never understand what they really mean.


How is it I can be so proud, yet feel like I have been kicked in the gut?

Why is there this overwhelming compulsion to hold on, but I open my arms and let her go?

A force called orders pulls her along and all I can do is stand in the parking lot and try to breathe.


Oversee Joy


Women’s March Memphis, TN

There was a sign on Saturday that read “Our Daughters are Watching.”

My daughter is an adult now, 21 yrs. old, but what do I want her to see?

That equality, no matter your race, gender or religion is a fundamental human right that should be tended and cared for.

That kindness and patience can be cultivated not only by setting an example with your own actions, but anticipating respect in return.

That peace is overseen by all of us as we take on the responsibility of tolerance for our neighbors and forgiveness for those that may trouble us.

And that there can be joy and optimism in unity,  resolve and with the start of each new day.

What do you want to see?