You would have turned 86 years old today, Mom. Probably would have celebrated with another covert Marlboro on the bench outside your door. Or sipped another red wine while seated at your monstrosity of a wall-unit desk, doing your “stuff.” A lifetime away from the day I emptied the old house of all of your…

Hours of snowfall blanket Stamford, Connecticut. Inches accumulate, from dusting to knee-deep, enveloping sidewalks and streets everywhere in sight. Partway through the barrage, snow plows attempt to mitigate the encroachment. I scarcely notice. We awoke to a frozen cold-water pipe underneath my kitchen. Hours of heating the pipe with both a hair dryer and a…