Those pesky little cancer cells made it to the naughty list.

Let’s recap a moment….tumor discovered on my pancreas in June. Took 3 separate endoscopic biopsies to determine what kind of cancer this was. Final diagnosis made in early September.

Stage 4 metastatic renal cell clear cell carcinoma of the pancreas. Or in simple English, kidney cell cancer on my pancreas.

After meetings with two oncologists and a pancreatic surgeon, it was decided that surgery for this cancer would be necessary but not until I could lose some weight to make the surgery safer. The combined opinion of these experts was this was a slow growing cancer and we had time. They also felt that no treatment was necessary at this time. The plan was to wait until December and then check my progress. So 12 weeks later, I was down 31 pounds and ready for this to get out of me. But life has other plans.

I had an MRI on Dec 12 and it showed that the tumor had grown, slightly but still growth. And there was now a second tumor on my pancreas. Not what we had hoped for. I met with both oncologists and the surgeon this past week. The major concern is the new growth. Seems there are some pesky little rogue cells roaming around looking for places to settle. So the plan changed. Surgery will be pushed back 3-6 months while I begin a course of immunotherapy that will consist of a daily pill and an infusion every 3 weeks. We do not want these cells to set up house on other organs. So these drugs will shrink the current tumors and seek out and destroy those little traveling bastards. This is what happens when you make it to the Naughty List.

In September of 1971, my sister Cathy began her freshman year at Colby College in Waterville Maine.

Let it be known she is 6 years older than me…except for 4 days in February when we are 5 years, 361 days apart. These are my favorite days of the year.

I don’t recall exactly what she was going to get her degree in but I know she was (and is) very smart. Sadly, she got mono before she graduated and our family could not afford to keep sending her to Colby. She dropped out and was never able to return. But clearly the fire burned… a few years back, she audited a few classes at Colby but once again, could not afford to return to school and finish what she started.

The University of Maine offers free tuition to senior citizens. So Cathy decided to take some classes. And then a few more classes. And then suddenly she was on track to get her degree. Over the last few years, she has taken a few classes each semester and over the summer. She has done incredibly well and often receives great feedback from her professors. It must be fun for them to be working with a much older student. Cathy will often send me her grades and I will always tell her I am slightly disappointed and she needs to do better! Hard to do better than 100’s and A’s all the time. She knows I’m kidding with her and that I am very proud of her work.

Recently, she began a class on “Advanced Writing”. The task was to write a 2 page “Reflective Essay” Two pages isn’t much, especially for someone who excels in writing.

I present to you the actual essay she submitted;

Reflective essay  ENG 205

Catherine Taylor  10-28-2025

I had the considerable good fortune to spend the Christmas holidays in Washington, DC a few years ago. High on my list of things to do that week was to see the White House Christmas tree. Since childhood, we have watched with breathless anticipation as television brought to life the annual spectacle of lighting the national holiday symbol. It sparkled like a million stars, reflecting the joy of the season and the promise of an illuminated new year to come. 

But there was something else about it. It wasn’t big. As a matter of fact, it seemed rather ordinary, like a tree that would grace a town square anywhere in the country. It was surrounded by lots of smaller trees-50 of them, of course-each festooned with a Christmas wish from an individual state. They had never told us about them on TV, as if they somehow paled in comparison to the main attraction. Rather, these trees, and the modest stature of the main tree, spoke to me of the kindred spirit of Christmas, that it belongs to all of us in a shared and humble way.

And so it is with this memory close to my heart that I watched in horror as the wrecking balls and loud machines began to claw at the East Wing of the People’s House. I had visited there as well, and again was struck by the ordinariness, the homage to the past, and the honor of history. There was a frosty chill in the air, the fading winter sun dappled the worn carpet. There was a faint scent of old paper and apple cider. Holiday garlands seemed a little tattered, velvet ribbons well-worn, chairs a little dusty and moire wallpaper a little dated, but collectively charming, traditional and unpretentious, like my house and yours. This week, amidst the collective chaos, I actually felt something finally break in me; I wept for it all. 

The East Wing became a home to the First Lady’s staff during the FDR presidency, and Eleanor Roosevelt greeted female reporters, Girl Scouts and many other women guests there.  Under Rosalyn Carter in the 1970’s, it became the Office of the First Lady, recognizing the increasingly important role the of the spouse of the president (King). Here we find portraits of the First Ladies and framed presidential Christmas cards dating back almost two hundred years. It is no small metaphor now, to tear away the homage given to women in the White House, even as so much disrespect pervades our daily discourse.

I am old enough to remember when Jackie Kennedy invited us to the White House, as she graciously guided us through the elegant rooms-named for colors of the rainbow. We admired the doors, the dishes, the fireplaces and the artwork, and for many of us, it forged a personal connection to this proud symbol of democracy. Not fancy, but nice enough for a president and his family; they deserved such a home built on shared ideals, courage and steadfast appreciation for the somber weight of the office. Now, shattered by questionable morality, it is to become a gilded lily, as if the lily herself were not sufficiently breathtaking. 

What do we do in the face of such trembling rage? Of frustration born of the reality that there is literally nothing we can do to stop it? To pound the earth in fury as colonnades tumble and know without doubt that the very foundation of our world is crunching under the order of a would-be despot. Vengeful fellows sway in his sphere and applaud, but there is no real dancing to be had. The joy of Christmas, the light, the Green Room, the French doors are all gone now. Jackie’s breathless, wispy voice echoes in the smoky wind. 

When the roses are gone, what have we left? How do we reclaim the symbols of our heritage once they are carted away?  How do we calm the unease at seeing the visible symbols of history torn away?  What thread, what small fragment of hope can help us rebuild, maybe better than before, not as an ornate palace, but as once again a home to America and its legacy, a place where all are welcome? The East Wing once served as the portal for White House visitors; one of the many Christmas trees that stood sentry there was a tree honoring military families and their sacrifices. It is easy to say that bricks and boards are the weight bearers of our ancestry and culture, but it is more ethereal than that. America was born of nothing more than a dream of freedom; dreams may fade and swirl in the dust, but they are never really gone. We simply must not hand them over to gaudy spectacle, but rather reclaim what is rightly ours, and seize the fragments of democracy from those who seek to destroy it. 

King, Rachel. “A History of the White House East Wing”  Town & Country Magazine  

23 October 2025

In May of this coming year, my sister Cathy will receive her Bachelor’s Degree in Political Science from the University of Maine, Farmington. It is entirely possible there will be some kind on cum laude attached to it. She will don her cap and gown and walk across the stage like every other graduate. No one, and I mean no one will be prouder of her than I will.

There is a very large recreation park near where I live. It has numerous playing fields, basketball courts, little league fields and of course “my” pool. Earlier this year, a massive construction project began to create a new multi purpose field, walking paths, pickleball courts and a major drainage project. So one day all these cool trucks and excavators arrived (a kids paradise) and started to dig up the park. Every day I would drive by and see a newly created pile of dirt. One of the piles was HUGE….and then there were many smaller piles randomly placed around the area. It made absolutely no sense to me.

But I was fascinated. I assume there is a plan for these piles but not being a dirt pile construction professional, I had no idea. I just really enjoyed the process. What was most fascinating to me was that the piles seemed to move from one place to another with no specific obvious reason. It seemed like men in big claw trucks just made dirt piles for fun. And then moved them the next day like chess pieces on a board. The new field started to take shape and I watched every day as another layer of dirt or stone or something was laid down. There are so many layers of stuff! This is obviously part of the drainage plan but again, so interesting to watch. Big roller trucks arrived and compacted the area down before a new layer was added. One by one the small piles began to disappear but the huge pile remained and actually became a lovely grassy hill. Could this be a permanent fixture? A new sledding hill? But no…slowly but surely the claw trucks took big chunks of dirt from the hill and made new piles. The new field is slated to be ready for use in October. I’m not sure that will happen since many piles remain. I’ll be sad when it’s done…but the good news is that they will then move to the other side of the park and start all over again!

Moving on…adults who ride those two wheel skateboard/scooter things with a motor are idiots. First of all, wear a helmet if you MUST ride one. Second, if you ride in the street, you actually have to obey the traffic laws. You are not allowed to ride on the highways…really. And when you do, and you weave in and out of traffic and get hit by a car, you will wish you had that helmet on to protect whatever might be left of your pea sized brain.

I will never grant the way for anyone driving a Tesla Cyber Truck. I will block any intersection you are trying to exit or enter. If you have one of these, you are compensating for a small penis. I will not indulge you. As the great Kathy Bates once uttered in “Fried Green Tomatoes”…”face it ladies, I’m older and have more insurance.”

Back for a moment to intersections…why does every car now that is trying to exit a side street just pull out so far that you almost hit them? And in some case, pull out and just keep going? These are the same people that think a red light means one or two more cars can go. They are also the ones that park at the end of the marked spaces at the end of a sidewalk/curb because there is room and they will only be a minute.

Kids crossing streets without looking because they are looking at their phones deserve to get hit. Not that I want them to but really, who’s fault will it be? And then there are the people who press the walk light and actually wait for it (thank you!) but then miss it completely because they were looking at their phones…and now dash out and try to cross anyway.

And last but certainly not least, if you are old enough to remember the 1999 Grammy Awards, you will understand my final thought…Ricky Martin is en fuego!

So yeah, I did a tattoo thing. Let it be known that I was the last of the family to do this. My sister has one, my brother had many and my nieces and nephew are all inked. Now I am too.

I was not opposed to tattoo’s, just never had anything I wanted permanently on my body. One thing I did know is whatever I may have gotten, it had to be in a place where I could see it. For many years I have looked at various nautical things because as we know, sailing is my thing. But I never found anything that I really liked that was unique. Until now.

Earlier this summer, my niece A sent me a beautiful sterling silver cuff bracelet. There was something written on the inside. It says, “Fate whispers to the warrior “you can’t withstand the storm. The warrior whispers back “I AM THE STORM” I loved this…so much.

And in that moment, I knew this was the thing I wanted permanently on me. This year has been trying in so many ways. But the reality is that my life has been trying in many ways as well. I’m no different than most people, just experienced different life drama and trauma. From family stuff, growing up with alcoholic parents, losing our house, being evicted from apartments to living with family friends or be homeless. Spending 38 years in a 911 career where nobody calls you when they are having a good day to the internal drama of managing employees. A previous bout with kidney cancer 13 years ago to where I am today. My ortho surgeon called me a “warrior” for how I have handled two knee replacement surgeries. And then as we know, I got a fun new cancer thing…and I will have to be a warrior to face that journey. My niece A knew a really good tattoo artist on Cape Cod. It seemed fitting to me to go there with her and get this done. So a plan was hatched. The artist does not work on Wednesday’s but she agreed to come in on her day off to do this for me. I can not say enough about how wonderful she was. So very talented. She was very thorough and took her time, making sure everything was perfect. It was a great experience, not at all painful and came out exactly as I had visioned. Thank you Madi Bristol from Great Island Tattoo in Hyannis Ma.

So yeah, I did a thing…and I love it. I AM A WARRIOR.

I don’t know.

These are the three words I have come to detest. I say them countless times a day. And I’m pretty sure I will be saying them for awhile. But finally, one thing I do know is that after 3 endoscopic biopsies, I have renal cell clear cell carcinoma…in my pancreas.

How did this happen? Well…I don’t know. I do know that this is not a good thing. But really, is any kind of cancer a good thing? I do know that they tell me this is unusual. It’s hard to understand how you get kidney cancer in your pancreas. Apparently cells migrated from my old cancerous kidney into the pancreas. Aren’t I lucky?

So what’s next? … (insert 3 detested words). I’m fairly certain some type of treatment is in my future. There has been some talk about surgery. The next step is likely to meet with my “cancer team” to decide on a treatment plan. I have lots of questions…

Like Shaboozey, I could use some “Good News”.

Join me as I go down this road.

It’s been awhile…and a lot has happened in that time.

“Annus Horribilis” is a Latin phrase that translates to “horrible year”. It was most famously uttered by Queen Elizabeth in 1992 is a speech describing a particularly difficult year for the British Royal Family. I am using this phrase to describe what has been my “annus horribilis” this past 12 or so months.

In July of 2024, I fell and basically destroyed my left knee. My right knee was not much better. After many physical therapy appointments, cortisone shots and meetings with my ortho doc, we made the decision to do total knee replacement surgery.

Fast forward to January 7, 2025. I went in to the hospital and had a total knee replacement on my left knee. There are few words to describe how intensely difficult this surgery was. You think you understand but really, there is no way to understand having your bones cut off. I did “well” for the most part. Had some severe swelling issues and for close to 2 months, I could not sleep more than an hour at most in my bed. The pain is indescribable. I got most of my “sleep” in a newly purchased recliner. I continued with PT and prepared for knee #2. Yes, you read that right! Because doing one knee was so much fun, I decided to do my right knee as well. So on April 23, I went in to the hospital and did it all over again! This time was different. I did not have the swelling or sleep issues as much. What I did have was some significant nerve issues. I absolutely could not stand anything touching my leg. This included long pants, blankets, sheets…anything. It took awhile but that problem has subsided. Today I continue with PT and still have pain every day. It’s a long process and could take a year or more. But I’m tough so I can handle it. I tell myself this every day!

And then the year turned really horribilis. I felt what I thought was an abdominal hernia. Went to the Doc and was sent for a CT scan. It was not a hernia, just an abdominal muscle torsion. But there was something else. A lesion/tumor on my pancreas. A flurry of tests ensued…CT scans, MRI, endoscopic biopsy, second endoscopic biopsy, second opinions from pathologists and very few answers. There are some things that are certain. This is cancer. From what they can tell, this appears to be metastatic renal cell carcinoma in my pancreas. Now…renal cell cancer is a fancy term for kidney cancer. So how do I have kidney cancer in my pancreas??? That’s the big question. In 2013, I had an “encapsulated” tumor in my left kidney. The entire kidney was removed and the tumor went with it. No further treatment was required because it was “encapsulated”. Well, here we are and it looks like a pesky few cells migrated into my pancreas and set up shop. I have known and have been dealing with this since mid-June. It’s almost 2 months later and I have no definitive answers. It has been very difficult knowing I have cancer but not knowing how or why or what is next. Some kind of treatment is in my future. There will be a 3rd endoscopic biopsy, this time at MGH. There may be a surgical procedure to remove the lesion/tumor. I don’t know. These are the 3 words I say many times a day…I don’t know.

This has been very hard on my family and friends. But they are all here to support me every step of the way. They manage information sharing for me so I don’t have to tell every single person. This helps immensely. I do my best to remain upbeat and positive and carry on every day as I normally would. But there is that nagging fear of what’s next…what will happen…will I die from this? I fight those questions off and live each day. One thing I know for sure…I will not die today from this.

Having voted early, my bff MC and I boarded a plane in Boston the day before the national election and flew to Florida. The last time I was on a plane was in the spring of 2005! My sister and I flew to Tampa/St.Pete for a few days of beach and sun. So much has changed in 20 years! First of all, driving to Logan was a new experience. The Ted Williams tunnel! What happened to the other tunnels???? The airport looks nothing like it did 20 years ago. Well, of course it doesn’t. But wow was I surprised. Navigating the airport was going to be a challenge for me…both because it’s all so different and because I am as well. MC made it easy for me. I’m not sure I could have done this without her help.

We boarded the plane and off we went. The flight was really very smooth and we arrived in Orlando about an hour early. The Orlando airport is massive….like really massive! We got our luggage and our rental car and off we went to our resort. MC has a vacation ownership and can go to many places in the world. We went to this incredible place in Orlando…with 5 pools, our “room” was a fully outfitted 2 bedroom/2 bathroom suite complete with full kitchen and in-room laundry. And a lovely balcony with table and chairs to look out over the fountain lake. It was fantastic. We got settled and then walked over to the big pool…and wow! This pool was massive. And right in the middle of the pool was a huge grotto with waterfalls. Amazing. We grabbed dinner at the poolside restaurant and then back to our room.

Election day dawned partly cloudy with occasional rain showers. So we made a list and off to Publix we went to fill the frig with lots of goodness. With the weather being less than ideal for the pool, we went to Disney Springs and went to the movies. Conclave….starring Ralph Fiennes, Stanley Tucci, John Lithgow and the beautiful Isabella Rossellini. This was a great movie, lots of drama and intrigue and one huge twist at the end. See it! By the time we got back, it was time for the pool…..

In fact, every day was a pool day! On the weekdays, we would arrive at the pool around 9 and procure ourselves a perfect cabana for the day. These cabanas had a table and 4 chairs and then 2 lounge chairs and side tables. We chose a location that was mostly shady as MC has that fair Irish skin! A hot tub was conveniently located right next to our cabana and the bathroom was 20 yards away. Also, each cabana has a ceiling fan and there is a USB port charging station in each one. Perfect! We spent all day every day at the pool. There was a water aerobics class at 11 each morning that was lots of fun. Each day MC would go back to the room and bring lunch down while I continued to lay claim to our cabana. We would pack it in each day around 4-430. I was sensible and tanned but did not burn.

On Saturday our friend R came up from Sarasota to spend the day with us. We’ve known each other for 35-40 years. It was great to see him and spend the day together. The weekend days were busier at the pools but there was plenty of room for all. It was fun watching the little kids in the spray pad area and the brave kids swimming under the grotto waterfalls. The water beats down hard! On Tuesday, it was time for me to come home. MC was staying a few more days and in fact, taking me to the airport and picking up her sister at the same time. I was on my own for getting thru the airport and did pretty well. It was not as far to go as when we arrived. I flew home, making a stop at Reagan in Washington DC before heading on to Boston. The weather in Orlando was very warm (80’s) and very humid. The weather in Boston was cold. I wore shorts on the plane because yes, it was hot in Orlando. I knew it would be cold in Boston but I also knew I was not going to be outside for a long time. Upon arriving at Logan, I texted my friend D who was waiting in the cell phone lot. When he pulled up and got out of the car, his first comment to me was not “nice to see you” or “welcome home”….no, his comment was “You know it’s winter right?!!! In fact, I actually enjoyed the cold and dry air. I certainly expected Florida to be warm. But I honestly did not expect it to be as humid as it was. The pools were averaging 82-85 degrees and the “cold” water in the kitchen and bathroom faucets was barely cool.

I had a wonderful time in Florida. MC made this trip easy for me and for that I am grateful. We sat poolside every day, reading books, sometimes talking, sometimes not and just relaxed. It’s the best kind of friend to have that does not need to be entertained every minute. We travel well together. Initially I was not going to take this trip. I was not ready. But MC made the decision to have me fly down with her and it made all the difference. Having someone to help me navigate the unknown and huge airports was key. In fact, I was then able to manage my return flight through 3 airports all on my own. Victory!

Where are we going next????

I have been to NYC 3 times now. The first time was in 2004 on a bus trip to the old Yankee Stadium to see the Red Sox play the Yankees. Roger Clemens was pitching for the Yankees. The late great Tim Wakefield was on the hill for the Sox. The Sox won this game and eventually won the World Series. It was a season none of us in Red Sox Nation will ever forget. But in reality, this wasn’t really a trip to NYC.

In October of 2019, my friend L and I boarded the bus for a whirlwind trip to NYC for me to see the Broadway show Hamilton. We arrived in New York around noon, dropped our luggage off at our hotel and took the subway downtown to the 9/11 Museum. I had tickets to the “First Responder” tour. There are so many things I could say about this place…but I truly believe every American needs to go there and experience this hallowed ground and what happened here. It was profoundly meaningful and a place I will never forget. We came back uptown and went to the top of the Empire State Building. It was evening and it was beautiful. We had dinner at 10pm, returned to out hotel and crashed. Up early in the morning to take the train downtown again to board the boat to see the Statue of Liberty. We walked around Liberty Island and enjoyed the views of the City. Then we were off to Ellis Island….fascinating place that someday I’d love to go back and spend more time. But alas, we had to go…back uptown for lunch and I went to the matinee performance of Hamilton. This was my first Broadway show. I will always cherish this memory. The show was incredible and I still know all the words to and can rap the opening song! We returned to the bus and got back home around 9pm…a 36 hour adventure that crammed in a lot in a short time!

And then last week I returned to the City, meeting my bff MC there for 2 days/nights of adventure. Much has happened to me in the years since I was last in NYC. I suffer from a level of anxiety and occasional panic attacks. Had you asked me to take this trip 6 months ago, I would have flatly said no way. But time changes and improves things and I was ready to take this trip. I went by train to the City. I had never taken a train anywhere before and this was really fun. I arrived at Penn Station and to say it was overwhelming is an understatement. I got my bearings and although I was one block from where I should have been, I still managed to get to the hotel and meet MC. I was a bit rattled but I think I did pretty good. We went to dinner just around the corner from the hotel at an Irish joint. Food was delish…Jameson was even better! MC was in the City as she often is for work so on Tuesday morning, off she went to the office. I had scheduled myself to take the hop on/off bus tour of the City. I not really able to hop off at the moment due to a knee injury so this was a perfect way to see the highlights. It was a gorgeous sunny day. The first bus took us downtown through lots of areas, past the 9/11 museum, Wall St, the Brooklyn Bridge, SOHO and so much more. We went up the West Side Highway, enjoying the views of the Hudson River, The Intrepid museum, the Chelsea markets. Bus #2 went uptown…of course through Times Square, the Chrysler Building, all the way up Madison Ave where ALL the fancy designer stores are. We passed by The Met. I had really wanted to go here, see a few exhibits and have lunch, but there was not enough time. We continued down along Central Park, around to Columbus Circle and then back down to Times Square. These two bus trips combined took almost 5 hours….way longer than advertised. The reason for this; traffic…so much traffic. I don’t know how anyone gets anywhere. I could never drive in the City. A small side note…when it was time for me to leave the hotel for the bus tour, I was really struggling. I was afraid. But I KNEW I that not only did I have to do this, I could do this. And I did.

Tuesday evening was epic. MC and I had dinner at a little Italian restaurant close to the hotel. We then walked the 3 blocks to Madison Square Garden where we were to see Stanley Tucci give a talk about his new book “What I ate in one year…and related thoughts”. He was to be interviewed by John Krasinski. Little known facts on John….grew up in my hometown of Newton Ma, graduated from Newton South High School, married actress Emily Blunt who just happens to be the sister of Stanley Tucci’s wife Felicity. This event was to take place in the Theatre at MSG. There was a lot going on that night around the Garden. The Knicks were playing…and so was Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show! In order for us to get to where we needed to be, we walked through a massive crowd of people who were watching the live simulcast of the first VS fashion show in 5 years! I’ve never seen anything like this! The music was pounding, the ladies in the crowd were all dressed up, the models on the screen were not…it was incredible. Had we not had tickets for Stanley, it might have been fun to stay there!

Stanley was wonderful. John is really quite funny so there was a lot of good banter going back and forth. Stanley talked a lot about the relation between food and family and how making the meal is almost more important than eating it. He lamented (and we agreed) about how meals are rarely eaten at a table with the family anymore. Life is too busy. Given the choice between not ever having garlic or onions to cook with ever again, Stanley quickly chose garlic. Onions are far more versatile. It was a wonderful event and we even got a copy of the book! Back to the hotel for a nightcap.

MC and I were both taking the same train home. This made my travel far easier as she knew where to go in the cavernous train station. It pays to have a bff with status as we waited in the Amtrak lounge and got Red Cap service. Bonus! The ride home was peaceful and relaxing. MC got off in Providence as it’s closer to home for her and I continued to Westwood at Rt.128. My friend D was there to greet me and brought me home safe and sound. It was a fun 2 days.

Here are some random thoughts…I know the sun was shining but it was hard to tell since it never gets to the ground. Marijuana is legal in NYC…and EVERYWHERE you go, thats all you can smell. It’s stinks. Every single stranger I interacted with on this trip could not have been nicer or kinder. Everyone is pushing/pulling luggage. There are SO MANY people. Where are they all going? Where do they all live? I could never live in the City. This trip was at times overwhelming for me and there were moments of high anxiety and mild panic. But in the end, I overcame all of that. I’m very proud of myself for fighting my way through and doing what I set out to do. I am grateful for my circle that encouraged me and understood without judgement. I won!

Now it’s off to Florida…..

Well that’s a really good question! I’ve been sort of busy living life.

My last post was in July of 2022, marking the 1 year anniversary of the death of my brother Ron. Since then, so much has happened. I left work in April of 2023 and officially retired in February of this year. It has been a rollercoaster, and to know me is to know I hate rollercoasters!

My life in public safety communications spanned 38 years. I began my career as a Dispatcher for the Bentley College (now University) Police Department. I worked nights and overnights and loved it. I met my best friend at Bentley and here we are over 40 years later and still bff’s! I loved working there. A college campus is very much like a small city or town. The same things happen just in a smaller space. We had a great department with lots of fun characters that came through over my 10 years there. There were shenanigans during summers and break times. We had cookouts in the middle of the night. We went to bars for breakfast. I formed a close relationship with the students from the college newspaper. They would bring me the mock up paper for the publisher to pick up at the police station. I guarded it with my life! These kids were great. Smart, engaging, fun. I also thoroughly enjoyed working with one of the sorority groups. During “pledge week” the young ladies would come into the station late at night and as was customary, I could have them do anything I wanted. There was no hazing here, just fun. I always asked the girls questions about themselves and at the end, asked them to sing the sorority song for me. It was harmless and fun. After 10 years at Bentley, it was time to move on and up to the big time.

My hometown of Newton Ma had combined their police and fire dispatch centers and was for the first time, hiring from “outside”. I applied to be a Dispatcher and was hired. There was so much to learn in a big city dispatch center. Sending cops to calls was easy. The fire department was much harder to learn, at least for me. But I was determined and became very good at the job. After a few years, any and all Police Officers assigned to Dispatch were removed and they made the center completely staffed by civilians. They hired shift supervisors that worked under the command of the Patrol Bureau Captain. Eventually, Dispatch became it’s own specific bureau with a Captain in command. I was promoted to Shift Supervisor and was in charge of the overnight shift. This was my choice. I had always loved these hours. I stayed in that position for several years until the position of Senior Supervisor was created. It became clear that the Captain needed someone to navigate many of the tasks of Dispatch. It became clear because I made it so! I worked exceptionally hard writing training programs, implementing emergency medical dispatch services, creating cohesion between police and fire…so much more.

The position of Senior Supervisor gave me the ability to work not just with the people in dispatch but also throughout the Department and then on to various City Departments. I was a member of the Citywide EMS Committee, I sat on the Fire Department EMS committee, I worked closely with our medical control doctors, the Health Department, School Department, and even the Executive Offices. I did numerous public appearances teaching people about dispatch and EMD (Emergency Medical Dispatch). I spoke to kids, senior citizens, school nurses and so many more. I loved this part of the job. It was very rewarding. But yes, there were parts of the job I did not like. I choose not to lay bare the specifics but just know that in the end, the bad became unbearable. The job took a toll on me. It was time to go, so I did. After 28 years, I left a job where I know I made a difference in the lives of those who I worked for and with. But mostly I made a difference for the citizens of Newton. Nobody can ever take that away from me.

Retired life does not suck. I only answer to me now. I do what I want, when I want. I have spent the months enjoying life. I swim and water run a lot, as much as I can. I worked on my garden. I purged so many things from my home. I bought a new car. I sailed…in June, early September and the end of September. I finally feel like I can travel beyond my comfort zone. A 2-night trip to New York City with my bestie MC awaits me in just over a week. A 10 day pool and sun filled vacation in Florida in November is up next for us. So yeah, retirement does not suck. I don’t know what the future holds for me. But I do know that the choices will be mine. I do hope I will return here more often to tell you all what’s happening in my little world!

One would think being first is a good thing. For this past year, first has been a series of painful moments for this family. Today…July 5, marks the first anniversary of the death of my brother Ron.

Our family has spent the last year with all the “firsts”. The first day, the first week and month. His first birthday, our birthdays, the holiday season, Valentine’s Day, St.Patrick’s Day, Mother’s Day and Father’s Day. These were all the first times we did not have him with us. Some of these days were more painful and difficult than others. These days affected each of us in our own way. And then there were the days with no specific meaning, just a day the reality of his loss snuck up on us and whacked us in the head.

On the 4th of July last year, I was spending the night with my bff MC at her home in Worcester. She had suffered her own devastating loss in February of last year. In the 6 or so weeks prior to the 4th, I had not spoken to Ron. Our last conversation prior to the 4th had not gone well. He was in a drug rage, out of control, unable to be rational, nasty. I ended that conversation. I was not interested in dealing with this behavior. So on the evening of the 4th, around 730-ish, my phone rang and the caller ID indicated it was him. I hesitated for a moment…what would this conversation be like? But I answered anyway.

He sounded wonderful. Really wonderful. I was so surprised…but happy. We did not discuss our last conversation. This family is GREAT at avoidance. Anyway, he was calling to ask me to come to NH in late July to photograph an event at Epping Speedway. Our cousin John was coming from New Mexico for this event. I told Ron I was not sure what I would do. For me, being in the blazing hot sun at a race track for a day was not appealing. I hate the heat! But he was persistent and it was clear he really wanted me to come. I still would not commit but I said I would consider it and decide when it got closer. We didn’t have much more to say…because yeah, avoidance. But the call ended the way all of his calls did with him saying “love you”. I never said it back to him. It wasn’t my thing…still isn’t. But I don’t feel bad because I know he knew I loved him…and always would. I am glad I answered that call.

He died in the wee hours of the morning on July 5. I think as a family, we always knew this was how it would end. I think we all felt a considerable amount of anger at some of the circumstances surrounding his death. The Covid pandemic did him no favors. As a person in recovery, he relied on his meetings and connections with the recovery community. Covid took those connections away and isolated him. He was also dealing with a lung cancer diagnosis and subsequent treatment. He was in remission. But most difficult was his penchant for surrounding himself with less than desirable folks who used him for money and drugs. And in turn, he used them. It was a recipe for disaster. His story is no different than so many addicts…and his end was also no different.

He was a son, a brother, a father, a grandfather, a recovery Dad, a cousin, an asshole, a friend, a biker, a lover, a sentimentalist and a phenomenal breakfast cook. He was many things. But most of all, he was ours. And we miss him.

It is July 5th…the end of the first’s.