by Norma Best Boucher I locked up my car and walked to the sidewalk leading to the thrift shop. When I looked up, the child’s eyes met mine. We both smiled. “What a beautiful baby,” I told the young mother. Inches away from them, looking straight at the face of the roughly six- month-old child, […]
by Norma Best Boucher The best teacher I ever had was not a teacher in the conventional sense. He wasn’t in a classroom with chalkboards and books. His domain was the Morning Sentinel editorial room with ringing phones, noisy teletypes, and two-fingered typists pounding out stories on antiquated manual typewriters. I was only 17 years […]
by Norma Best Boucher “Don’t you bring home one of those things, Raymond.” I didn’t know what my mother meant by “things,” but I did know by the smile on my father’s face and the wink of his eye that we were going to do just that: bring home “one of those things.” This was […]
by Norma Best Boucher “Where is it?” I say to myself, checking out the beef department cooler at the large grocery store. I’m making spaghetti tonight for supper. I make pretty good spaghetti, but I am sick of making spaghetti and even sicker of eating spaghetti. Just how many times HAVE I made spaghetti in […]
by Norma Best Boucher I locked up my car and walked to the sidewalk leading to the thrift shop. When I looked up, the child’s eyes met mine. We both smiled. “What a beautiful baby,” I told the young mother. Inches away from them, looking straight at the face of the roughly six-month-old child, I […]
by Norma Best Boucher “I’d say you have another 10 years,” the doctor said casually. He stared at his computer. I stared at him. His facial expression never changed, but my mouth opened into a big O-shape, and my eyes opened extra wide. His “You’ve got a lot of life left in you.” was my […]
by Norma Best Boucher I was never a good swimmer. Neither of my parents could swim, so I wore a life jacket throughout my early years. Of course, later on I was embarrassed wearing the jacket, so I figured I should learn to swim, but how? The answer came during the summer I turned 10 […]
by Norma Best Boucher I remember the day; I remember the hour; I even remember the skipped heartbeat when I first heard my six-year-old son Alan’s words: “I want to be a hockey player.” Translation – You can be my hockey mom. * * * * * * “I have to teach him to skate?” I asked my husband. “You’re […]
by Norma Best Boucher Report card 1952, Kindergarten—Norma has a vivid imagination. Mrs. W. “How’s school going, Norma?” “Daddy, it’s only baby grade, and we only go in the morning.” “I know, but kindergarten is a big deal. What do you do in school? “We read a big book on a chair about Dick and […]
by Norma Best Boucher 1987 – According to Shirley MacLaine, with crystals at each corner of my shower and with the fingertips of both of my hands touching in pyramidic fashion, if I chant three times, I will find an inner peace. Here goes: “My fortieth birthday will not be a traumatic experience.” “My fortieth […]