2009, I hardly knew ye. You came and went. You blew in on the heels of Christmas last year and now you are making your exit. A whole year — 365 days. Where did you go?

I see on my calendar, first days, then months crossed off. I lived these days, months…

Uncle Shorty was born in a hotel elevator in Washington, D.C., in January 1974. I had two children then, one five and one three, who had just spent 10 long hours in their car seats, reluctant passengers on a tedious ride from Boston to our nation's capital…

A beloved Golden Book inspires a sweet family tradition.

"Can you read me the Granny Glittens story, Mimi?" Adam asked, though he is nearly seven now and likes to read to himself. "I like chapter books," he told me the last time he slept over. Mercy Watson was his choice then….

I was sure the bat would send them over the edge. It is hairy and huge and horrifying. It has giant white fangs, an eight-foot wing span and menacing "I’m-gonna-get-you-then-devour-you-alive" flashing red eyes.

I hung it in the archway between…

Here's what happens when your kids grow up: You don't have Pop-Tarts in your house anymore, or drawings all over your refrigerator, or a box full of unmatched mittens on the closet floor. Plus, you miss things. You can read the newspaper every day, but all the news that's fit to print isn't all the news…

They had a normal, typical life. First his. Then hers. Then theirs together. They dated.  They fell in love. They got married.  Five years later they had a nine-pound baby boy. Twelve months and 11 days after Mark was born, Chuck and Maureen Palermo welcomed their second child, another nine-pound boy. They named him Daniel…

When my older daughter became a mother nearly six years ago, I became a grandmother with a brand-new baby to love. But I also became a different kind of mother to my baby. I was useful again. I knew things. I understood. And the most important thing I understood was how much my daughter loved her child…

The chair has been in the family for 65 years. My husband's parents, both born in Great Britain, bought it for their daughter when she was 2 years old. It is child-size but it shrieks "adult," not only because it has a high back, spindly wooden legs, and curved wooden arms, but also because it is covered in green velvet…

When Nancy Tupper Ling’s childhood friend gave birth to a daughter with Down syndrome, Ling wrote a poem called Our Fragile Emissary. The heartfelt verse quickly landed in e-mail inboxes and on message boards around the world. (You can Google it.) Six years later, Ling wrote a book about the same child, titled My Sister, Alicia May, and what happened next is a tale of fate, serendipity, and maybe something more…