Loved both of your memoirs. I grew up in the Finger Lakes and your Mother of all Mother's Day story is a favorite. Feels like home as you describe the hillside scene with its view of Cayuga Lake. The image of the notes of the songs going out to the farms and vineyards surrounding the lake has me revisiting the landscape I know by heart. Thank you!
I've loved your advice columns and consider your newsletter a weekly gift. Mother's Day has brought back both sad and happy memories over the years, but now they're the best with love freely given and received with my wonderful adult sons --- even though we're on opposite sides of the country.
Thank you for sharing your Mother's Day story. It warmed my heart.
Loved this today. I know it can be a fraught day for many but, I must be the luckiest stepmom in the world as I have never dreaded Mother’s Day. My daughter and son in law honor me every year and it means the world to me.
My Mother's Day is always bittersweet as I miss my mom who passed away over a decade ago. She was the one who, as my friend said, 'collected kids, the way that some folks collect teacups'. It is also a day filled with joy when I get re-connected with my own 'collected kids' from all over the world who had lived with us over the years as exchange students.
PS - The BEST song on the Cornell chimes is the theme from Star Wars!
I have loved reading your columns, newsletter and books. You continue to show me the real side of life, not a homogenized version of some columnists. Thank you!
I didn't cry at my mom's funeral. Or my dad's. None of the hymns I picked out were played and, mainly, I just wanted to get away from the catholic church. I've never been close to religion and I just wanted it to be over. I don't care what people think. I'm 75 and I still regard it as a huge joke.
So funny, I already did the exact same thing, about 20 minutes ago, that Paula wrote bellow my comment here. It fits so perfectly into a family conversation we had yesterday. It was like you wrote that for us! Love your “letters”. I take them personally and find them useful and enjoyable. Thank you for exposing yourself Amy. There are times I feel like I’m peeking through my fingers!🥰😷🥰
I appreciate your humor, your musings. I am taking your quote from the ending of your memoir and sharing on "the facebook", giving credit, of course. It says a lot very well. Write on, Amy write on.
Thank you so much, you’ve brought back great memories for me…my mom has been gone for 20 years and I still wish I could pick up the phone and have a long conversation with her…have a blessed Mother’s Day!
“ I imagined the music sweeping down the slope and across the lake, entering the falling-down dairy barns and the farmhouses, running up wooden staircases, brushing over quilted beds and spilling out of open windows before disappearing into the fields and forests beyond.”. So poetic.
Loved both of your memoirs. I grew up in the Finger Lakes and your Mother of all Mother's Day story is a favorite. Feels like home as you describe the hillside scene with its view of Cayuga Lake. The image of the notes of the songs going out to the farms and vineyards surrounding the lake has me revisiting the landscape I know by heart. Thank you!
I've loved your advice columns and consider your newsletter a weekly gift. Mother's Day has brought back both sad and happy memories over the years, but now they're the best with love freely given and received with my wonderful adult sons --- even though we're on opposite sides of the country.
Thank you for sharing your Mother's Day story. It warmed my heart.
Loved this today. I know it can be a fraught day for many but, I must be the luckiest stepmom in the world as I have never dreaded Mother’s Day. My daughter and son in law honor me every year and it means the world to me.
I love your writing and have read all of your books. I’m so happy to have found your newsletter!
My Mother's Day is always bittersweet as I miss my mom who passed away over a decade ago. She was the one who, as my friend said, 'collected kids, the way that some folks collect teacups'. It is also a day filled with joy when I get re-connected with my own 'collected kids' from all over the world who had lived with us over the years as exchange students.
PS - The BEST song on the Cornell chimes is the theme from Star Wars!
The end of your memoir was wonderful! Thank you for your thoughts and wisdom.
loved the mother’s day story- I remember it from your memoir! the newsletter is fabulous
I have loved reading your columns, newsletter and books. You continue to show me the real side of life, not a homogenized version of some columnists. Thank you!
I didn't cry at my mom's funeral. Or my dad's. None of the hymns I picked out were played and, mainly, I just wanted to get away from the catholic church. I've never been close to religion and I just wanted it to be over. I don't care what people think. I'm 75 and I still regard it as a huge joke.
So funny, I already did the exact same thing, about 20 minutes ago, that Paula wrote bellow my comment here. It fits so perfectly into a family conversation we had yesterday. It was like you wrote that for us! Love your “letters”. I take them personally and find them useful and enjoyable. Thank you for exposing yourself Amy. There are times I feel like I’m peeking through my fingers!🥰😷🥰
I appreciate your humor, your musings. I am taking your quote from the ending of your memoir and sharing on "the facebook", giving credit, of course. It says a lot very well. Write on, Amy write on.
Love today’s newsletter. Thanks!
Thank you so much, you’ve brought back great memories for me…my mom has been gone for 20 years and I still wish I could pick up the phone and have a long conversation with her…have a blessed Mother’s Day!
I love EVERY part of your newsletter...and books as well....and look forward to seeing it every Sunday in my inbox. Thank you....sincerely!!!
“ I imagined the music sweeping down the slope and across the lake, entering the falling-down dairy barns and the farmhouses, running up wooden staircases, brushing over quilted beds and spilling out of open windows before disappearing into the fields and forests beyond.”. So poetic.