My mother saw disaster lurking everywhere. Why did I take so many decades to believe she--and so many women like her--had a lot of reasons to be afraid, not only for herself but for all of us?

What happens when you finally get the toy of your dreams ... when you're in your sixties? Will an Erector set help your little girl become a physicist? What do we really want from our parents?

We're forgetting just how horrifying it was to live through the covid pandemic, especially if you were elderly, disabled, or otherwise at risk. We're forgetting how many loved ones we lost, how many survivors were left with lifetime damage, both physical and emotional. Given that the current administration has decimated our defenses against any future pandemics, I felt the need to offer a reminder.

Why have I battled dybbuks, injuries, sexism, and the infirmities of age to continue playing competitive tennis? What has Title IX meant to women of my generation? And, if you'll excuse me for being corny, what can tennis teach us about how to live our lives?

I've been terrified of dying all my life. Now that I'm in my sixties, I'm even more frightened. So why on earth would I decide to jump out of an airplane?

Since my earliest years, I've been told I couldn't catch a tune in a gallon bucket. Nothing scared me more than singing in front of another human being, let alone an audience. So, what prompted me to take a class in which I would be required to do just that? Why do so many of us take other people's judgments about our abilities as fact when we could, if provided with a kind and generous teacher, learn to do nearly anything?

My father was a dentist, so I was restricted to one sweet a day. But our house was stuffed with candies, cookies, cakes, ice cream, and other treats. That's the world we're all living in today ... filled with temptations that constantly assault us, even as we're advised to indulge only in moderation. Which is a good way to drive a person nuts. (Deliciously rich and perfectly salted nuts, coated in the richest, darkest chocolate ...)

Why would anyone give up a cushy summer job in an air-conditioned office for a sweaty marathon waiting tables at a busy Howard Johnson's ruled by a hard-hearted jerk of a manager? Why do so many of us, when we're figuring out who we are, envy the lives of our classmates, which seem so much more desirable than our own?