children in orphanage

Memories and Mourning – My Son From Russia

by Elisa Fleener They called him ‘The Smiler.’ Two weeks later a movie of him arrived. It was a personal premiere for my husband and I with the hope it would squelch the fiery frustration I was feeling after so many failed fertility treatments. The movie started with static then finally the screen flipped to a[…]

Not a mother - country Life City Wife

I Am Not A Mother

by Alice Barden I am not a mother in the conventional sense. I wanted to be, and am very clear when people assume that, “I didn’t want children”, that I actually did. Very much. Just not enough to have them on my own when I was older and, well, possibly able to. I also never[…]

mother daughter in 60s Shirley MacLaine

Mother/Daughter: woman to woman

by Peggy Reskin The grasp of the tiny perfect hand and almond shaped head, wet and sparkling with the tinge of red hair, gave no indication of the journey we would take together. She charged through to the world through my body now empty of the life force she brought to me in 1964. It[…]

fuschia dress

What Choice You Had

By Mary Warren “Come to my room, help me chose the dress I’ll be buried in. Is it too morbid of me to ask?” Your first choice a fuchsia dress Silk, long-sleeved, belted. “Is it too garish for a funeral?” You decided at your funeral you would wear what you wanted, bright color such a[…]

hand playing guitar

Still a Woman – Lyrics To A Song

by Rivian Bell Mother’s Day 1982 – a song for Mom, and all our mothers Verse: She studied hard to find a way to make it on her own She never knew the luxuries her sons and daughters know One morning when the train pulled in she left the north to roam Put on a nurse’s[…]

woman with short gray haircut

50 Ways I Love His Mother

by Carol A Cassara She was a writer. They all were: journalists, novelists, corporate writers; poets, playwrights and pamphlet writers. The entire family loved the written word, producing it, reading it, talking about it. I fell in love with their son first, and then with all of them. They embraced me as family and we[…]

mother holding childs hand

You’re the Mother; She’s the Child

by Laura Iodice “Tu sei la madre; È la bambina.” “You’re the mother, Laurie; she’s the child.” I often heard my Grandmother lament these words while living, three families together in one three-level house. My mom, dad, baby brother and I technically lived on the third level, but since my mother was the youngest and[…]

womans hand writing letter

Searching For My Mother

by Mary K O’Melveny I. In the first months of life without her, I had no dreams, no visions, no goose-pimpled “recognition” moments or messages from beyond. No birds crossed my path, wings raised in salute. I heard no mid-night sounds calling out my name or hers. I felt a void of the void –[…]

typewriter - source christophergronlund

Are You A Writer? Submit Your Guest Blog Post Here!

We’re looking for good writers to submit original posts to be considered for publication on the Women At Woodstock website blog. The current category we’re accepting posts for is: “Motherhood, Or Not” We’re interested in reading your essay about your mother, or your friend’s mother, or about being a mother, or about not being a[…]