Every Fifth Word

Dear children,

In GB, Munich and at Loyola I wrote copious pages of youthful thoughts, filling diaries with struggles and yearnings, and 20 years later they seemed so silly, I chucked most of them. I wrote countless letters to high school friends before unlimited phone minutes and kept many responses, which you will find in a cardboard box down in the basement. (Do me a favor, don’t read them till after — well, you know…). I attempted to write as you each arrived, pasting most thoughts and funny experiences into the scrapbooks that I will finish sometime before the decade ends (I promise, M and L!!).

This year, I wish to write again! Perhaps not frequently, but as each one of you meanders past the “Every fifth word” stage (you know, like Charlies Brown: parents say “wahh, wah wah wah wah trash wah wah wah-wahhh wahhhhhhh morning Waaaaahhhhhhhh me” and who knew they wanted the garbage out before tomorrow morning? Like, I didn’t hear you say anything! (Quite true!)) into attentive adulthood and may want to read about here and now someday — well, here they are, meandering thoughts from your mom!

You’re welcome!