We develop close friendships throughout our lives, and some of us are lucky enough to keep those friends our entire life. However, this is often not the case. Life never does what you expect it to do, and sometimes that best friend falls away. This 1970’s photo was sent from my friend, Serin; at one time, we were inseparable like close sisters. We were young, sexy single

Dery Dyer has been my close friend for over 35 years here in Costa Rica. Yesterday she passed away after a long struggle with severe medical conditions. I was able to see her recently and was about to visit again yesterday, but she died in the morning. For those who don’t know her, she was the owner of the Tico Times for 40 years, the only English

When I was young, I kept dozens of journals usually filled with my life challenges and the emotional roller coaster I couldn’t get off. Eventually, I stopped the literal writing about my struggles and moved to poetry, which was metaphoric writing about my struggles. Then my art took it to a new symbolism of pictorial pain. At some point in my 40’s stopped writing about my personal

“How many years of beauty do I have left? she asks me. How many more do you want? Here. Here is 34. Here is 50. When you are 80 years old and your beauty rises in ways your cells cannot even imagine now and your wild bones grow luminous and ripe, having carried the weight of a passionate life. When your hair is aflame with winter and

It was entertainment night at the Senior Citizens’ Center. After the community sing-along led by Alice at the piano, it was time for the star of the show – Claude the Hypnotist! Claude explained that he was going to put the whole audience into a trance. “Yes, each and every one of you and all at the same time,” said Claude. The excited chatter dropped to silence

“Once upon a time there was an old woman who lived with her family in a big house on a tree lined street. She spent lazy afternoons sitting on the porch swing listening to music and waving to the passing neighbors who all seemed to know her name. “My daughter always wears that pretty ruffled apron when she cooks and she keeps the house real clean. One

“I Am My Mother” I am my mother She’s a part of me My courageous spirit The best I can be She traveled a twisted, rocky road. No loving spouse to lighten the load. In a concrete city with skies of gray Three hungry mouths to feed each day She did her best, the best she could. Sometimes wrong, sometimes times good. She never gave up, never