My daughter Joanna called me on her way home from work. She does this to touch base, to let us know her plans. She's 23, living home after college, which means she sleeps here Monday through Friday, is out of the house before I'm up in the morning, out until I'm asleep some nights, and away on weekends. Not a bad deal for both of us, although I love having her here. We probably talk more by cell phone and email than face to face. We share commonalities, but we are really very different in many ways. That's why I don't write about her, usually. She's very private, and I try to respect that. She tells me, "You have no filter, Mom!" This is usually hissed in a shocked whisper after I've offered a laughing comment in public that she feels is too . . . I don't know . . . unfiltered. I don't agree that I have no filters, but my privacy sieve has larger holes than hers. I let more through. I learned to do this when I discovered how lonely it was t...
Life is a series of snapshots meant to be recorded in words. A writer and photographer shares hers.