Goddess, the bad news from this year never stops coming. Losing Leonard Cohen is a hard blow.
My first lover wooed me with Suzanne.
(I liked his version even better than Mr. Cohen’s.)
I weaned Son to That’s No Way to Say Goodbye and crooned it to myself the night that, grown up, he moved into an apartment with DiL. When G/Son was a baby, I sang it to him to put him to sleep. He always slept so hard, with a flush on his cheek, his red hair all tohu-bohu, his arms flung across the pillow.
Yes, I’m a maudlin old woman. I own it.