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I called the beauty salon where I’ve been a client for years to ask for the name of someone to cut my hair. My previous person had moved out of state.  “How about T.?” said the receptionist. “She’s the stylist who teaches new stylists how to cut hair. She does a great job.”  “Okay, why not?” I responded.  I entered the shop for my appointment, announced that I was there for T. and out she came to greet me. She washed my hair and pointed to her chair. “I’ll be with you in a moment,” she said.  As a writer...

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I used to tell friends and family that after my three children left home for college and work, my husband and I would savor the payoff years in our marriage. Although I wept inconsolably after dropping off my youngest child at college, it took about one hour to realize that, hey, this could be the start of something new. And it was. We often feel the same about our careers. We work, structure our lives around our jobs and families, try to balance the demanding needs of each, put money into retirement accounts, pay off our mortgages, smile gleefully when...

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By Susan  “Honey” Good I was sitting at my desk making out my dinner menu for my husband’s homecoming that evening. Michael was in Utah attending a business meeting. My daughter had just arrived back from the No Ko Oi flower shop with gorgeous orchids for the house. We were all excited and were just about to leave for the market to shop for the homecoming dinner when the phone rang. It was my brother-in-law calling from Colorado. He was a doctor. This was the exact conversation: “Hi Suz.” “Hi Rog! So happy to hear your voice! How are you?”...

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At first, I was terrified at the thought of being alone. It happened quickly. One day I was a wife, and then I wasn’t. My husband had died. Yes, I still had children (grown), but they were long gone. I found myself slowly sinking into a depression that was as deep as a cosmic black hole.    I was bereft. What now? And poof! One day, or week, or month, or year later, I climbed my way back to the land of the living. It hit me like an electric shock: I was living alone for the first time in...

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You know you're aging when you begin to hate to drive at night because you tire more easily or you just don't trust your driving reflexes as much--particularly swerving to avoid deer. I'm experiencing the latter as I drive my 96 1/2-year-old mother--"Gammy" to my daughters and her great-grandson--between her apartment in New York City and my home in the country where I live fulltime. When I first moved to my area almost six years ago, Gammy would take the train--even take the bus from her apartment to the train station, carry a small bag, climb aboard, get off, climb...

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