Grand Designs: Navigating the Amazing Trails of Motherhood
by Nicola Burnell
Bright Angel Canyon, Arizona
Ten years ago, I published an article titled Oh Boy! In Cape Women magazine. After being raised in a family of strong, opinionated women, I was examining the challenges of raising boys when I had so little experience with the male population.
My article concluded that if I listened to my sons, I mean REALLY LISTENED to who they are and what they needed as they matured, I would be guided along the unfamiliar path of motherhood.
I am happy to report that my insight was correct and now, a decade later, my sons are becoming the young men I always hoped they could be.
Eggs, Doppelgangers, and Extra Credit: A Summer Road Trip Adventure
by Mariah Orchid Kelley
My entire junior year of high school, especially during the last quarter, there was one thing that was on everyone's mind: colleges. Not just one, but dozens.
Mail had been coming since the end of sophomore year to the point where my name on an envelope was no longer met with the exhilarated thrill like when I was ten years old.
Counselors and teachers all told us the same thing: "This Summer is the most important." "This Summer is the ideal time to go and visit; to see what you like and what you don't."
Of course it all started with figuring out what I wanted to do with my life, which was relatively simple for me. I've known since the 5th grade that I've wanted to write.
by Beverly Ryle
I loved it when my parents would talk about me as a baby or a small child.
I would listen with rapt attention to stories that made me the center of their universe and gave me a sense of what my life was like before I had the capacity for memory.
It didn't matter that the stories never changed, or that they were usually told at cocktail parties to get a laugh.
Whenever they would pull out one of their when-Bev-was-little anecdotes, it was as if suddenly I were thrust center stage with a small spotlight on me instead of hidden in the shadows cast by the crossbeams of their relationship.
As an only child, I cherished these moments and was perfectly happy to join in the laughter, even though it was at my expense, because it meant I was seen.
First Light of Cape Cod
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