Still miss her after 10 years …

Last Sunday was Mother’s Day and, even after all this time, it’s tough — not that I only think of my mom once a year. Truthfully, I miss her everyday. I can’t tell you how many times a week I reach for the phone to call her.

It’s still an automatic reflex whenever I’m unsure about a recipe, or I’ve got news to share, or I’ve seen a movie I know she’d have loved, or some silly antic of hers pops out of my memory bank and into my consciousness.

She was a hoot. Feisty, funny, up for just about anything that didn’t involve elevators or heights.

In the summer of 2000 I became one of three founding Continue reading

Sorry, but I’ve got to blow off a little steam …

Yeah, I’m crabby. I probably would have suffered in silence, but yesterday a blogging buddy wrote about being crabby and, at the end of her post, asked what made us (her readers) crabby.

Well, she poked the tiger, opened the door. Of course I have to share.

About 10 consecutive days of rain hasn’t helped. I know it’s sunny now, but I’m still not over it,  Continue reading

The mind’s willing but the body isn’t …

Like my mother, I’m a film lover and have been since childhood. I was in my glory when I moved to Toronto and realized that, for 10 days every September, it was home to TIFF (Toronto International Film Festival).

I’ve cancelled or delayed many a vacation in my time, but those 10 days were sacrosanct. I looked forward to the festival all year and I Continue reading

My first best friend …

I must be pretty desperate for content if I’m willing to share this photo with you. It’s me, at about two years old sporting the worst haircut ever! How could my mother do that to me? I particularly love that curl that seems to have a mind of its own. Reminds me of the poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow:

There was a little girl,

Who had a little curl,

Right in the middle of her forehead.

When she was good,

She was very good indeed,

But when she was bad she was horrid.

The day the picture was taken, I was being Continue reading

Back to reality …

Don’t know if you’ve realized it, but for the last little while I have been making a real effort to think (and write) only about the positive: Pleasant memories, good times, gratitude and so on.

It’s worked, too.

The more I’ve concentrated on the upbeat, the less involved I’ve been in the Trump madness, the better my mood and my attitude have become.

But nothing lasts forever, I guess. The world isn’t rosy all the time and fake euphoria (like fake news) doesn’t do anyone any good. So I’m going to give in, vent for a minute, get it off my chest, and hope it’ll go away. Then Continue reading

The good old days …

Just looking at this photo has brought back all kinds of great memories. It was back in the 90’s — ’93 I’m thinking — and I was at an Ogilvy worldwide creative directors’ meeting. Jim, who’s  in the shot with me, was the creative director in our LA office.

He and I had met a year or two earlier, in New York, at David Ogilvy’s 80th birthday bash. Which is a whole other story. We (Jim and I) got along like a house on fire and we became fast Continue reading

I know you won’t believe me, but …

… as a kid I was painfully shy. I didn’t walk beside my mother, I crept along behind her. And if I could have crawled under her skirt, I would happily have done so. Seriously. For that matter I wasn’t a particularly outgoing adult for much of my life either.

Hard to believe when you look at this photo, I know, but it’s true.

I still get clammy palms when I think back to the first time I was part of a major creative presentation, to a major client. Huge client, presenting to the president and CEO and I was new to the account and the agency. Hell, I was new to Toronto.

To make matters worse, I’d had no presentation training, Continue reading

A frustrated artist …

That’s me in the photograph. I was a first time flower girl; and it was one of my great uncles who was getting married. He was only 15 months older than my mother.

Can you imagine? The uncle and the niece were probably in diapers at the same time. It’s unsettling enough to think of your parents having sex, but your grandparents. And your great grandparents. Good God!

You will never know how much I hated that dress. It was tulle, but it was rough and scratchy, and it felt like I was encased in barbed wire. For most of the night I squirmed and twitched like I was possessed. And when we finally got Continue reading

The good old days …

A friend and I were talking about New York the other day. I’ve been there hundreds of times over the course of my lifetime, but I had an instant flashback to one trip, in particular.

I was with my parents, my aunt and cousin. I was young, not yet a teenager. But not as young as I am in the photo with my parents. I was probably a year old, two at the most in this shot.

My parents and I used to go to New York every spring, for easter, for about a week or 10 days. My father went often for business, but as a family we went once a year, although occasionally more often. My mother was born there and Continue reading

My Dalai Lama moment …

I can’t believe it’s been nine years since I went to India. One morning, out of the blue, I woke up and decided I was going and started planning a trip. Although sometimes I wonder just how “out of the blue” it was.

My mom had died about 10 months before and the last few years of her life weren’t easy on either of us. She never looked sick, she never
lost her spirit, her love of life, her energy or her sense of humour, but there were numerous visits
to doctors, numerous nights spent in emergency, Continue reading