Author Archives: Samantha This afternoon my seven-year-old son Edgar is off to investigate the Newport Academy of Ballet. He wants to be a dancer. He’s not merely intrigued, not intent only on dabbling. He has aspirations of the Billy Elliot variety; and his first goal is to dance in The Nutcracker. Edgar has always followed his heart where…  I have never been one to try to recreate memories from my childhood with my own children. And to be perfectly fair, this says more about my upbringing and less about my magnanimity as a human being. But that aside, there was always one thing I yearned to share with each of my sons, a…  “If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away.” –Henry David Thoreau “Well, hello there, cutie!” “Thanks, little buddy.” Words from strangers in public places to my seven-year-old son in the…  “Your children are not your children. They are sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself. They come through you but not from you. And though they are with you yet they belong not to you. You may give them your love but not your thoughts, For they have their own thoughts. You may house…  Fall, for me, has always been an invigorating month—one I pine for after the intense heat and the humidity of summer have sapped my physical energy if not occasionally my spirit. However, fall now has a new meaning for me. It was this time last year my son had his first seizure and was subsequently…  The following piece was submitted recently to The Simply Stated Blogger Contest for Real Simple magazine in response to the question: What was the most difficult thing you had to give up in order to balance your schedule? It wasn’t selected as a finalist (sniff, sniff); on the upside, though, I am now free to share…  To see the Summer Sky Is Poetry, though never in a Book it lie – True Poems flee. – Emily Dickinson Summer is short . . . soon the sand in the car will be replaced by ice on the windshield, the popsicle residue where you least expect it a thing of the… 
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