It is wild to me that over a week ago, we picked up two strangers from the airport. Ten days later, tears rolled down my cheeks as I said goodbye as they left for their flights home. I will miss them, my new Italian daughters. My own daughter, with three older brothers, now has sisters she can call her own.

For the record, the show today is way better than it was at the beginning, 22 years ago. Back then, the main focus was on delusional dreamers who had no idea how bad they were, and the only reason to watch the early episodes was to find someone to laugh about at the water cooler the next day. It was a guilty pleasure back then, too, I guess, especially if you found pleasure in cruel ridicule.

It’s been particularly challenging to see my mother-in-law’s independence slowly slip away. Simple tasks that were once second nature to her now require assistance, and it’s becoming increasingly clear that she needs more support than I alone can provide.

We took our granddaughter to downstate Illinois to see the eclipse in 2017, our first “once in a lifetime” activity. We initially planned on taking another granddaughter to the recent eclipse but she was out of town, so we decided to go on our own. Several steps were involved in our planning. The first was the path of the eclipse. Fortunately, there were several locations within a 4 to 6-hour drive where there would be a full solar eclipse.

That’s because the long-awaited 17-year cicadas are clearing their throats underground just beneath the trees right now, and soon the branches above will ring with their robust songs. And every other time in my life that they’ve come to visit—four times in total before this time — they somehow found a way into my mouth.

I am accustomed to a house filled with voices and noise: laughter, instruments being practiced, “What’s for dinner?” being shouted, or the shower running for far too long. I’m used to hearing footsteps overhead, before they recede across the ceiling the way a shooting star appears in the corner of our eye, then disappear just as suddenly, leaving us to wonder if we only imagined it.

Mom earned a high school diploma from Leyden High School, but Dad left school at 14 to get a job to help support his family during the Great Depression. Had it not been for such hard economic times, he would have earned his high school diploma, too.

That’s because our government a century ago felt that education was important enough to guarantee that young people have the right to be educated through high school, funded by taxpayers.

Throughout my career, I was accustomed to a fast-paced and active lifestyle, constantly on the move to meet deadlines and achieve professional goals. However, with retirement comes a significant shift in routine, and I now find myself with more free time on my hands.

The AP Stylebook is a substantial volume for journalists, students, and writers that, to me at least, deserves its own podium, open to the page about nonessential clauses, marked with a rich leather bookmark, a single light trained on its text. Instead, it stands upright on my desk, crammed beside file folders and various notepads. As an improvised bookend, I prop it up with the mug I use to drink my daily cup of tea — it has “No Drama” emblazoned in gold letters on its side.

Move ahead a few millennia, and lo and behold, these two young foodies are now ancient and use a GPS in conjunction with Nancy’s nagging. As fate would have it, they now live in the boonies of Huntley, and Woodstock is their close neighbor.

We take it for granted that whether or not we see it, the sun is above us in the sky each and every day. Clouds may obscure our view, but we know that the sun is there shining bright. This star influences our planet in several key ways. It determines our seasons, influences the climate, drives our weather patterns and assists in controlling the ocean currents. All living plants are dependent upon the sun and could not survive without it.