11 May 2026

A life crowded with so much pleasant incident of late prompts me to jump accounting for those less recent experiences to focus here on yesterday, spent first taking in Boston Ballet’s “Spring Experience” and then watching folks recreate in the Public Garden. Mother’s Day proved a great time for enjoying fair weather and flowers in the park.

The Ballet’s wonderful program proved too much, however, for the dutiful mom and her youngest daughter seated next to me at the Opera House.  Lia Cirio’s abstract After with its striking tableaux and origami seashell got the better of a squirmy girl; mom and daughter left after After.

The mom, a fellow subscriber, mentioned she hoped for more patience with Sleeping Beauty at month’s end.  I’ll confess that After challenged me as well, but the long program that followed engaged me completely, especially the pas de deux that begins William Forsythe’s  Herman Schmerman, a witty battle of the sexes in yellow skirts danced to perfection by Madoka Sugai and Tyson Ali Clark.  I’d love to see that again right now.  Jerome Robbins’s hour-long Dances at a Gathering also delivered, not only in the technical finesse of the company, but also with guest pianist Nan Ni’s stupendous performance of the knuckle-busting all Chopin score.

I had come to the Opera House looking for solace and distraction from 24/7 news of wrecking balls taken (sometimes literally) to democracy.  Mission accomplished.

Then it was time to stretch my legs en route to the Public Garden with a turn around the Common, the oldest public park in America (est. 1634).  Perched on a tree leaning over the pond—one irresistible to climbing kids once I vacated it—I deployed my smart phone to connect with my brother-in-law Richard and share the complexities of Mother’s Day for members of what Kate Spencer has dubbed the “Dead Moms Club.” 

It’s 18 years since my mom Virginia passed, only 2 since my sister Jane, Richard’s wife and Daniel’s mom, left, and the only constant is the absent presence of both.  Relationships remain dynamic, even with the departed.  Richard and I agreed on the persistence of grief, the perniciousness of a broken health care system and predatory insurance companies, and the salutary comfort of music and good deeds.  We shared photos.  And then I strolled, taking in the many moms and kids, sweet couples, proud grads, and soooo many photographers.

On my way back to the parking garage (with the Opera House crowd now happily discharged) I passed the Burying Ground, a memento mori juxtaposing all the new beginnings of Spring and the day.

And there at the corner of Tremont and Boylston overlooking the Common, I noticed the mosaic seal of the Grand Lodge of Masons in Massachusetts, with beavers representing the industriousness, community, and collaborative nature of builders, aligning with the foundational principles of Masonry, adopted (I subsequently learned) from the coat of arms of the Premier Grand Lodge of England.  Given that our home, Gnawwood, was named for our tutelary beavers, I was pleased to see them celebrated flanking the core guiding principle of the Masons:  “Follow Reason.”

“Follow Reason.” Words of wisdom from 1733 for this, our plastic moment.

Point taken. Happy Spring!