Saturday morning cartoons were a big deal to me and my three younger brothers in 1966. Each of us had an assigned Saturday for deciding whether we would watch Huckleberry Hound, Bugs Bunny, or the Jetsons. On one particular morning, I was unhappy with the choice one of my siblings had made. How a pipe wrench came to be in my eight-year-old hand, I do not remember. I do, however, very clearly remember striking the head of one of the characters of the offending cartoon. The result was a nick

After my husband’s passing, I wrote “thank yous“ for the wonderful condolence messages, and as was my habit, signed both our names. I soon heard from concerned friends that I wasn’t facing reality. “What reality?” I protested. “I am our secretary; he always left it to me.”

However, he did compose one note that I cherish. He wrote it on the day of our second daughter’s birth, and I have read the note at the naming of each of my great grandchildren.

“Thank you, dear G-d,”

One of my favorite TV shows is about two decades older than I. The cast was on its second televised reunion by the time I was born. I posted these thoughts about Happy Days here because I know they will resonate far more with those who grew up with or had children that watched the series the first time around. This teenager saw her first episode while home sick in 8th grade; with the help of her DVR she was soon hooked.

Happy Days was an idealistic, altruistic show that aimed to be

My grandfather, like my grandfather's father and all the men before or after him in my family, is a fisherman. Not just any kind of fisherman, though. There's the fishermen who fish on the beach, off the dock, or off a boat, and then there's the fishermen who own party boats, capable of taking out crowds of 75-100 to go fishing during the summer and early fall. My grandfather was the latter.

When my grandfather's father was starting out in life (I'm saying his 30s)he bought a boat an

It has been seven years since my grandma passed away. Going into high school, I not only had to grow up but say goodbye to a really important person in my life as well. It was hard enough dealing with the upset, let alone going through the notions just to get through school. But I found a way to cope, knowing she’s happier where she is – no longer in pain from being sick. Ever since she left, I always thought of new ways to cherish her memory. But the things I made along the way got lost or rui

A pall fell over our country just weeks before Christmas when twenty innocent victims, some no older than ten, lost their lives in yet another senseless shooting. Over the last few years, I’ve asked myself time and again, when did this violence begin…and more importantly, why? For me, growing up took place in a simpler, gentler time. School and safety were synonymous. Perhaps that’s one of the reasons I became a teacher. I always loved school!
Over the years, I witnessed our sc

My grandmother called today. I saw her this past Sunday. Prior to today and Sunday I hadn't seen her since Christmas Eve. I'm ashamed of that.

When I do visit Nanny, she talks constantly about dying. Not that she is afraid to die, but that she wishes death would hurry up and arrive. I understand she has lived over 80 years so I try to steer our conversations to stories of the past.

Nanny is a wealth of writing material. She brings back memories during our talks that

A soft, sweet summer breeze sweeps over the path, as her shimmering golden locks fly behind her and she toddles after a puppy.
With her bright, exquisite sundress blowing in the wind and her dainty little baby toes padding on the cold, hard packed earth, not even noticing how hard and cold it is, and only seeing the true beauty around her.
She stops long enough to smell an auspicious, boastful flower, when a bright, red, luminescent berry catches her eye. She plucks it off the vine an

Someone once said, “A ship sails and I stand watching until it fades on the horizon and someone at my side says it is gone. Gone where? Gone from my sight, that is all. It is just as large now as when I last saw it. That is what dying is—a horizon and just the limit of our sight.” That is how I’ll remember my Pappy—just as large and just as real as the last time I saw him.

Anybody who has ever worked in retail knows that one old man who comes into their store every week and tells the

Hello All,

Stage of Life is proud to announce its latest endeavor - the development of the first mobile storytelling game! For the last three months, we have been putting our creative efforts into drafting Writing Race, a multiplayer story writing game for Apple iPhone where friends will collaboratively (or competitively) write a story together using their mobile phone.

Our idea to expand Stage of Life’s literacy initiative to the mobile realm began as some scribbling on

I am a 45 year old grandmother I have a beautiful 6 year old grand daughter she is the light of my life. She lives with me full time and I am her legal guardian I never thought I would be raising another one I had children early in life, didn't want to be a older parent. I love my 2 children dearly but was looking forward to not having a little one underfoot. school PTA, parent teacher conferences, Dr visits etc, But now I wouldn't give it up for the world.
It is a lot of work right now h

Hi there,

How may I be able to contribute articles to your blog? Do I paste the entire content here? Or do I email you the article in word file?

Looking forward to hear from you.

Regards,
Ava

Is that all there is? and then DIE?
I don't think so.....thats what I thought when I was a teen.....then HE TOUCHED ME! Yes, I was blown away when I was on drugs....I was 20 , a college drop out and making pizzas for something to do. I was drinking daily to escape the emptiness of my existence. Sure, it was a facade that I was "partying". I was miserable and God knew it. He was gracious enough to know when to intervene. I was busted a few weeks earlier for having a party with some pot at m

I have never been in favor of numbers, especially when it came to age. When kids joke about death, I immediately become sensitive unknowingly. But I'm aware aging is natural and inevitable, which is what scares me the most.

Luckily, I am surrounded by all these people that I love, like my grandparents. But whenever I am spending time with them, I can't help but noticing another wrinkle on their face or their momentary loss of memory. Time passes by so quickly and so do the numbers.

I remember growing up how every time you held me you held me super close. Ever time you would see me you would say how beautiful I was and spoil me rotten.
But when I started growing up you slowly changed.
What happened to the Nana who would eat chocolate chip cookies with me until our stomach hurt? Or the Nana who would watch hours of television with me when you had so many other things to do?
Nana what happened?
Why don't you remember me?
Why don't you remember wh