Marty’s Words
Martin DeMaat was an improv teacher at Columbia College and the Artistic Director at Second City Chicago. I took every
Read MoreMartin DeMaat was an improv teacher at Columbia College and the Artistic Director at Second City Chicago. I took every
Read MoreSometimes I miss you so much it steals my breath. It makes my heart beat so hard that I swear
Read MoreYou guys! I was finally starting to pull out of my funk, and give this page more attention…. and then
Read MoreMy mother began dating a new guy a few months ago, right as the COVID-19 pandemic began to ravage the
Read More![]() |
| Abuelito with Bianca |
My father-in-law, a Type II diabetic for 30 years, LOVED sweets… especially cake. If there was a pastel de tres leches around, that thing was going to disappear. His love for sweets would have been a problem for him except that the rest of his diet was so strict, regimented and healthy that he did not become insulin dependent until the age of 86 or so. There was more than one occasion that I would stop by and find him lying on the floor doing his bicycle kicks to stay in shape. He was an amazing guy… who loved sweets.
It was with that spirit in mind that my wife lit up and laughed. She shared my cake idea on Facebook and quickly another member of the family (also finding it hard to be “up” this Father’s Day with abuelito’s passing) was all for it and invited the family over for burgers, hot dogs and of course… cake.
The weeks leading up to the first day of school are often stressful and frustrating. While most people are counting down the days until they are able to drop their kids off and have a much needed break, I am racking my mind for ideas to keep a certain kids clothes on all season long. […]![]()
I’ve been trying to compile my thoughts for sometime. Obviously, that hasn’t happened. In fact, I think it has been well over a year since I have intentionally sat down to write something specific. Lately it has been more of a stream of conscious -write what you feel, write when you feel -sort of thing. […]![]()
I turn on the news and cringe as the only thing that seems to be happening is more pain and turmoil. In an already shattered world, these senseless acts make even less sense. I answer the phone and learn that yet another life, innocent and young, has been taken. I can’t even browse social media […]![]()
Someone asked me a few months ago how I was, I smiled, and made some smart comment about life then asked how they were. They never looked back. I sighed relief, because once again –I didn’t have to explain just how not ok I was. They ask me all the time “How are you?” and […]![]()
I haven’t written about her here in a while, a long while, to be honest…and while part of that can be a testament of how time works in healing wounds, part of it is also because I haven’t been able to make coherent thoughts lately, let alone -words. One thing I have never been able […]![]()