The Orphan with Eczema

  I admit it. I play the orphan card to get a foot massage. If he balks at all, I ratchet things up and mention that I also have been plagued with eczema. My. Entire. Life. We’ll be on the couch watching a movie, John’s hands entirely non-productive, and it’ll go something like this: “I … Read more

If the Election Were Held Today

  I had lunch today with my friend who’s a tender ninety-three. We sat at a round table in the corner of her new assisted living residence dining room, a community that assists the sweet, memory-impaired. It’s a beautiful place. It really is. The staff is friendly, respectful, dignity-givers. Up until this move a few … Read more

Can I Get a Witness?

  Rifling through a junk drawer this morning looking for a receipt, I came across this scrawled note, along with the photo booth pic on top—as if they were just hanging out together in the drawer. And so not junk. Here’s the back story, and for the record, I was a witness to one phenomenal … Read more

Gutter Grapefruit

  Yesterday I was riding my bike, and stopped to chug some water. I looked down and saw a squashed grapefruit in the gutter.   Ah, the sweet tangy/smell of grapefruit metaphor.   I had been struggling with some stress, worry, fear. And the thought emerged, Pammy, don’t live like a sunken in, gutter grapefruit. … Read more

Need Meeters

  I’ve always found the story of the man, Job (“Jobe”), to be altogether interesting and horrifying. Through no fault of his own, he was the unwitting character in a cosmic experiment slash tragedy slash faith story. What a job for Job. He has a series of worst-day-evers and then three friends come a-callin’ to … Read more

Tangible Love

  On my bike ride this morning, I saw a woman wearing the same shoes as sweet Kamill pictured here. The flash of bright tangerine and royal blue brought me back to that day in Guatemala this past March when Tiffany and Jeni and their teams of lovers came to the IMA school and gave … Read more

The Force

    I don’t know what it’s like to be a young, black male. I don’t know what it’s like to be a cop.   I only know what it’s like to be me.   I’ve been stunned and sickened by the news. I’ve had no words, just wide eyes and a broken heart.   … Read more

Call Your Cousin

I love the quote, “Burn the candles, use the nice sheets, wear the fancy lingerie, don’t save it for a special occasion; today is special.”—Regina Brett In honor of my fun-living, big-loving, carpe diem cousin who passed onto his next adventure yesterday, I dedicate this post. John Genaro lived the way I try to live. … Read more

I Think of Stacie

  I think of Stacie when I put my purse down on the floorboard of my car and cover it with a jacket. Once when I met her at the lake to go for a walk, she quipped, “Yeah, no one will ever think that’s a purse under that jacket and steal it.”   I … Read more

Good Jean

  When I compliment my mom on her youthful skin, she normally says something like, “I have good genes; I’ve got the Genaro skin.” She doesn’t deny the compliment (I mean, how could she?) but deflects it as a gift, part of her heritage. She also has a pretty snappy sense of style, and she … Read more