Who’s afraid?

Yesterday someone asked me, “Mary, what would you do if you weren’t afraid?” What would I do? I was reminded of a conversation that I had with my Grandma Farnum the year before she died.  That was about 18 years ago.  I was worried about a lot of things in my life back then.  Not Who’s afraid?

Mom was right

Science has never really been my thing.  I got through 9th grade basic science,  did better in 10th grade biology, and managed to pass 11th grade chemistry.  Thankfully, I didn’t have to take physics to graduate.  For college I headed off to a tiny but wonderful liberal arts college in western Podunk PA where I Mom was right

A single painted finger-nail

It’s not often one finds brightly colored finger-nail polish bottles awaiting one at a funeral.  Or the special request to paint one nail, just one, in honor of the deceased. But this was not just any funeral.  It was a celebration.  A party as a last  request of the delightful woman for whom we’d gathered A single painted finger-nail

All things old …

The diary is old and worn.  Much like its writer now.  In its early days, it was much like its writer then:  young, vibrant, fresh, many white pages ahead to be filled in with “life!” The diary lay two-thirds of the way through the box, covered with papers, crumbled bits of flower petals saved from All things old …

Upon Returning to the Stage

The voice on the other end of the line said, “would you be in Follies this year?”  I felt the word slip between my lips before I could even think about it much…”yes.” Two moments after that the doubts and fears started to creep out of the crevices where they’ve been safely hiding for the Upon Returning to the Stage