Rosemary climbed the stairs to the furniture section faster than I could, and when I arrived at the top she was sitting on an L-shaped sofa that was the color of amber, lighter than her own dark brown eyes which smiled at me as she bounced gently on the soft cushions. She patted the seat beside her in invitation.
Rosemary's ashes have found their way to the ocean, in Hawaii, where she lived when she was younger, before she found her way to me.
I sobbed unrelentingly for three hours the night before friends came to help me move the last items out of our house on the Farm River.
Last week, I zoomed with my grandson on his birthday, and I asked him how he felt about being 20. “Nanna,” he replied, “I don’t know if I’m ready to take on all the aspects of being an adult—things like paying taxes and all that.” He swooped his hand through the abundant locks of hair that fell over his forehead, as if to rid himself of such thoughts.
Dr. Rosemary Ann Talmadge, 66, of Brooklyn, New York, left this world on Saturday, January 30, 2021. She is survived by legions of fans including her wife, Brynna (Brenda) Kaulback, her daughters, Talmadge Nardi (Alan Mislove) and Shannon Lucas (Adam Broadway); and her grandchildren: Evan, Mira Rose, Galileo, Jordan, Luke, Thomas, Paul, and Rowan. She is survived by her mother, Rose Talmadge, her sister, Ka’ohu Cazinha (John Cazinha), her sister-in-law, Carol Vaughn (Michael Vaughn), and their children. She is survived as well by her former spouse, Jack Nardi. She was predeceased by her father, Robert Talmadge. [Click on title for full post]
The September nights are cool now and I ponder what winter life will be like when it is too cold for backyard visits in Boston with children and grandchildren or for brief stopovers on the deck of a friend in Rhode Island, as we did this past weekend.
I post today not a post of my own, but a poem and comments that were sent to me by my cousin, Cate Hart Hyatt. Thank you Cate, thank you Maya Angelou, thank you Nina Totenberg, thank you RBG When Great Trees Fallby Maya AngelouWhen great trees fall,rocks on distant hills shudder,lions hunker downin tall... Continue Reading →
The pandemic may have lessened the enjoyment of delegates, reporters, and participants of the Democratic Convention, but for home viewers like me, it created a much more pleasurable, albeit more curated, event.
As we settled into the sixth month since this all began, we had to figure out how we could go forward with our lives. It seemed that everyone we knew was measuring the odds in the same way that we were. Rosemary kept reminding me, “If one of us contracted the virus through our actions, we would look back and say, ‘It wasn’t worth it.’”