Tuesday, May 28, 2013

I'll Be Seeing You

It all begins with a letter.

"I hope this letter gets to you quickly. We are always waiting, aren't we? Perhaps the greatest gift this war has given us is the anticipation…"

It's January 1943 when Rita Vincenzo receives her first letter from Glory Whitehall. Glory is an effervescent young mother, impulsive and free as a bird. Rita is a sensible professor's wife with a love of gardening and a generous, old soul. Glory comes from New England society; Rita lives in Iowa, trying to make ends meet. They have nothing in common except one powerful bond: the men they love are fighting in a war a world away from home.

Brought together by an unlikely twist of fate, Glory and Rita begin a remarkable correspondence. The friendship forged by their letters allows them to survive the loneliness and uncertainty of waiting on the home front, and gives them the courage to face the battles raging in their very own backyards. Connected across the country by the lifeline of the written word, each woman finds her life profoundly altered by the other's unwavering support.

A collaboration of two authors whose own beautiful story mirrors that on the page, I'll Be Seeing You is a deeply moving union of style and charm. Filled with unforgettable characters and grace, it is a timeless celebration of friendship and the strength
and solidarity of women.

If you haven't already done so, go ahead and place an order, head to the store, BUY THIS BOOK. It is a stunning collection of letters between two women and will leave you with something so valuable and often rare these days. Hope.

Congratulations to Loretta and Suzy. We are so incredibly proud of all you have accomplished and can't wait to see what happens next!

Sunday, May 12, 2013

Happy Mother's Day

From time to time I’ll be struck by a moment. It’s usually something completely ordinary—tickling my daughter to get a belly laugh, the “hi” we get from James every morning when we open his door, my husband reading books before bedtime. I memorize the way her eyes crinkle, his tiny fingers gripping the chewed up crib rail, the two pairs of feet side by side in Lydia’s twin bed. And I’m positive I’ll remember, force myself to etch it and save it and treasure it and pull all of those ordinary moments back up when my kids are too big to be held and too busy to play and too cool for their old mom.
I have a bunch of them saved up, in between all the other not-so-fond memories I’ve pushed to the bottom—the morning stress sessions and fights to get out the door on time, the if-you-don’t-get-your-hands-off-your-brother-I’ll-I’ll-I’ll…, the time outs and tears and failures. But luckily the good prevails and the kids sleep. I peek in every night and gaze longingly at their innocent little sleeping faces to erase all of the challenges of the day and no matter what morning brings (James digging through cupboards, Lydia’s aggressive passionate love, disconnections, misunderstandings, exhaustion), they are peaceful and sweet and perfect.
Being a mom is not an easy job. I never knew guilt until I became a mom. I never truly appreciated my mom and how hard she worked, how much she loved us, how much she taught me until I became a mom. I never knew pressure until I became a mom. But I would have it no other way. Happy Mother’s Day. Here's to all of those perfectly, ordinary moments ahead.

Don't call this a comeback

So it’s been a minute. Or 10. Or truthfully more like 2,102,400. At least we think that’s how many minutes there are in 3 years, but let...