Wendy Litner

At my first doctor's appointment after my mother died, almost eight years ago now, the doctor thought it was important that we talk about grief. I sat on the examining table, hands wedged under my thighs, counting the number of Rockwell paintings in the room. I was twenty-three then, confused...

Unlike much of the population, I love Christmas music. At the grocery store, I hear fellow shoppers groan "already?" to the first sounds of holiday tunes. But for me, radio stations can't start playing them early enough. I like the good ones, like Ertha Kitt's "Santa Baby," and Bruce Springsteen's...

"Lost in Translation" was on the other night, and it always draws me in, no matter what I am doing. I hold my breath when Bill Murray goes back to Scarlett and holds her so tenderly, cupping her head to his chest as he brushes her hair aside and whispers...

I have no voyeuristic tendencies, and while I watch my share of trashy, reality television shows ("Love in the Wild," anyone?) I have yet to sit through an entire episode of "Big Brother." I just find it too unsettling to watch people living their day-to-day lives. Not one to like...

My husband was away for the weekend so one of my friends kindly invited me for dinner Friday night, knowing that I subsist on nothing but cereal if I am left to eat alone. My friend is like the Baby Whisperer and as long as I've known her she has...

I just finished a book in which the 30-something heroine was a feng shui consultant. She would go to people's homes and rearrange their furniture to bring peace and harmony to their lives. She was "living" proof: Having hung a picture here and lit a candle there in her own...

I was at a ceremony for my husband's late grandmother last week and I always feel compelled to visit my mother's grave whenever I'm at the cemetery. We are really not a "visit the grave" kind of family. As my grandmother used to say "dead is dead." I confirmed this...

I don't think I'm ready to have a baby, because I only want to be pregnant on the weekend. On Saturdays, I long for that expectant glow, that little bump in the belly. But come Monday morning, when I'm faced with the miserable prospect of the work week ahead, I...