What I Never Really Understood About My Father

If you know me at all, you know that my father was not only a doctor of medicine, but a surgeon. I am the first to give this information out. Pride for sure directs this pronouncement, but also because the title was who he was to the world around me. His hands had that careful attention, that steady strength, a surety that I and his patients could rely on. His journey to achieve his professional status was a place of pride too. I grew up hearing stories of how his family all worked together to fund his college education, his long hours of study that earned him scholarships to medical school, his dedication to master his craft: all of it rolled into that one title added to his name, Doctor Donovan. There were odd days here or there when I’d accompany him on hospital rounds or visit him in his office at New York’s Columbia Presbyterian Hospital, but regardless of everything I thought I knew about what his professional responsibilities were, last Friday afternoon it struck me, I knew nothing.

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metal and stone

Gold and silver and diamond and citrine and peridot: metal and stone fashioned and finessed into beauty and charm that keep me grounded in ancestry and lift me up into the glittery now. These metal and stone pieces of art hold my attention. Remembering the hand that wore it first. Seeing the new place on a younger finger. Fidgeting with it on my own hand. Timeless pieces are powerful enough to send you far. They move you.

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Happy Holidays!

My mother loved family and friends and all things party. She also knew how to love deeply and generously give both her time and her being, so at Christmas she was our sparkling star, our guiding light, the happiest person in any situation. In my home, we are so glad that she still watches over us all.

As my mother would wish, may you be merry and bright and feel all the joy and goodness possible this holiday season!