I write stuff down. writer • humorist • activist
Every once in awhile Facebook serves up a writing opportunity too good to pass up. I’m not talking about the teeth-whitening strips or cool-sculpting or the never-ending bra inventory promising to uplift more than my sagging spirits. Actually, I am talking about just that, because an assignment for an essay on why people shouldn’t tell women of a certain age what they can and cannot wear – landed in my
I’ve spent the month bedside with my dying aunt because nothing says summer vacation like fighting hospital staff for more meds while your incredible shrinking aunt disappears into bed sheets writhing in pain. There’s gotta be a better way. When alone in the room, my aunt tells me how she wants me to kill her if I can’t get her more meds; use a pillow, whatever I can think of
My dad was a math and computer science professor at a local community college in Poughkeepsie, New York. A smart guy. Very smart. Unassumingly smart. The guy at Trivia Pursuit who answered correctly despite asleep and snoring across the room. Listening to a radio caller blowing raspberries with their lips and groaning over the phone over the radio, my dad would be like, yep: catalytic converter, outsmarting Click & Clack
Nobody else is flinching. They’re all breathing. In and out. In. And. Out. Eyes gently shut, all the women are centered on their mats, breathing, hands at heart center, I can’t help but think like a praying mantis. Who kill their partner after sex. via GIPHY But these women don’t seem violent at all, they’re all super chill. I know, because my eyes are wide open and I’m scanning the
My darling daughter, Kid3, is traveling the world, Southeast Asia to be exact, solo, because she’s smart, brave, exciting, and adventurous. Plus, she graduated college early, saving me a boatload of money, so before the job and cubicle and 401k responsibilities kick in for the next 50 years, she packed a bag and left on a jet plane. For a month. Which is measure by 30 odd days. And cycles.
My therapist broke up with me. He revealed his wife had cancer, and when I asked which kind, and he answered “Gall Bladder,” and I said good, immediately, with zero hesitation, probably with a smile, and suddenly his kind and peaceful face was no longer. And the thing is, is that I meant it. Tuesdays are chemo day, the day before what used to be therapy day, when I’m a
When your grown ass kid, now all adultish with a paycheck, 401k and bills of her own, asks if you to go on a ski weekend with her you better well say yes. So when Kid2 invited me, I didn’t hesitate: you’re goddamn right I will because those teenage years were no picnic and now I get to hang with an awesome human. She texted – nobody calls, geesh mom –
While it seems the entire country is cleaning up and clearing out closets, cupboards, and creepy, crawly basements by saying good-bye to items that no longer spark joy, some people aren’t feeling the magic. Marie Kondo, the best-selling author of The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up: The Japanese Art of Decluttering and Organizing is helping thousands (maybe millions with a new Netflix show), clear lives of clutter and keep only what sparks joy.
An irreverent storyteller with a foul mouth and big heart, Kathryn Mayer (aka Kathy and/or Kate) is a writer, humorist, and activist writing out loud with humor and grace about little life moments with big ripples, including the space between parenting and aging parents, social issues, angsty reflections of midlife, and, sigh, gun humpers. Still. Sometimes a big deal, sometimes not Mayer is a national award-winning columnist, according to the National Society of Newspaper Columnists, and her essays have been recognized as Voice of the Year … Read More Here...
kate[at]kathrynmayer[dot]com
xo Kate