I’m one of the lucky ones – I absolutely adored summer camp.  I have glorious memories of my four summers at Camp Wamsutta, glossed to a high sheen over the years.

You were conceived.  And as you grew from toddler to teen, you couldn’t conceive of a time when your mother would not be there. 

What are the underlying reasons for the mixed emotions I feel when other people unexpectedly do really nice things for me?  

As a longtime urban dweller, there are certain things I willingly sacrifice in exchange for the amenities of city life, such as round-the-clock food delivery and enough drug stores to keep New York in aspirin for all eternity

Unless it’s my recurring nightmares about school or a passionate kiss with a famous actor, I’ve rarely remembered the contents of my dreams.

My family will be celebrating a big event next June: my oldest nephew, who is in his mid-twenties, will marry his longtime girlfriend.  I adore them both, and I'm genuinely and deeply happy for them. 

A friend recently asked me for feedback on an email exchange between him and a sibling who disagreed abouthow to divvy up responsibilities for an elderly relative's care. 

I recently read an article by an author who wrote about his emotional fallout when his elderly mother moved into assisted living.  Among the plethora of emotions was sadness at selling the farm where he’d grown up – the only place he felt was his true home in the world, even in his adult lif

For the past few years, I’ve been wondering how to best define the word "adult."  It’s not merely a function of aging – some of the biggest children I know are living in the bodies of fifty year-olds.  th.

After talking about it incessantly, planning for it tenaciously, and avoiding it diligently, here it is -- my first-ever blog post. It marks an auspicious day: I had a therapy session this morning with my sister and a job interview this afternoon.