I was born and raised in Brooklyn. (That’s not the funny part. That was the good part. Everyone who is anyone must have ties to the Brooklyn scene.) I graduated from New York University with an Honors English degree. (That’s not the funny part either, except there are not many things English majors are qualified to do.) I worked for two major publishing houses before I packed my bags and headed to law school. (That’s not the funny part either. Law school was hard.) I met my husband in law school. We lived in Western Massachusetts until we ran out of things to do. We moved to Long Island to be closer to family and to dedicate a great portion of our lives to driving our cars in traffic on the Long Island Expressway. Thank goodness for talk radio.
I’ve always known I was going to be a writer. I wrote novels for my third grade friends and shelved them in our classroom library. Today, I am a children’s book author. My two non-fiction books were published by Capstone Press. If you need to do research on Native American people, do I have two books for you! (Go to the library. It’s good for you.) I also freelance as a copywriter for greeting card publishers. (Send a card. Say hello to family and friends. People love hearing from you.) In my spare time, I live a charmed, perfect, worry-free life with my wonderful husband and even more wonderful daughters. And yes, they want me to tell you even the dog is wonderful. (Are you laughing with me yet?) I love reading, writing (surprise), diners, coffee talk with friends, and making beautiful music (although I am sad I will never be the female Bruce Springsteen). My happiest moments are when I make my keyboard talk. I love the sound of uncontrollable laughter. I hope you do, too.
Please write to let me know if something I wrote made your day. It makes my day when someone tells me: Your Words Matter.
To answer those burning questions above, keep reading. The mysteries will all be revealed.
But. Be warned. I never stop writing.
I never stop talking.
My childhood nickname was Chatterbox.
I rest my case.
Some things just don’t change.
PAMELA ROSS WRITES 
Hello — My name is Steve DiGrossi (author of: 4 Green Butterflies: A Lifestory of PTSD, Chronic Pain, Depression, Anxiety, Isolation …and Transformation). I just read an article you wrote, It Happened to Me: My Mother Didn’t Tell Me She Was Dying of Cancer. I felt compelled to reach out and let you know that not only did the article touch me deeply and personally, but that you are not alone with the never-ending, hellish grief caused by cancer taking your mom. I, too, lost my mother a little over a year ago. She was the sole light in my world of darkness. I took care of her the last couple months of her life. I watched, helplessly, her suffer and die with every breath she took. Deteriorating, emaciating, being devoured by cancer. I’ve been through an awful lot in my life (hence, the title of my book), but this was, by far, the most painful, most evil chapter of my life I’ve lived to date.
Just wanted to say thank you for writing the article and that I’d be happy to chat with you further if you like. I’m a rather private person and don’t do any “social media” (facebook, twitter, etc). I’m hoping that the little research I did to find a way to contact you pays off and this note finds the Pamela Ross that wrote the above mentioned Yahoo article I’ve referred to.
Feel free to contact me anytime. It would be a pleasure to chat with you.
Take care, and be well.
Steve DiGrossi
4GreenButterflies@gmail.com
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Dear Steve: This has been a rather busy week. Please forgive my delay in reading your words and getting back to you.
This letter moved me to tears. I understand your pain- but not for the reason you think it does, alas.
I am not the Pamela Ross who wrote the article you read and referred to above. I am so sorry. I wish I could help direct you to the right Pamela Ross. Perhaps you already have. I hope so. I will say I went through a terrible bout with my mother in 2001 where she did indeed work her way back from a frightening diagnosis of lung cancer. Thank g0odness, knock on wood, she is here, 15 years later, and the disease has never returned. Aggressive chemo and radiation worked its magic. Thank goodness.
I am glad you found me. If I can help you or you still want to talk, feel free to reach out to me here.
I wish you love.
-(Another) Pamela Ross 😉
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This is so you. One thing that comforted me when my mother died was that the end was reasonably brief and not a cancer death. It was not easy at all for her. And still sad. But 91 is a gift. The thing I learned though is to live like you are dying….you are….you just don’t know when…..take nothing for granted. BTW what font is this? I like it a lot.
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Love your nickname!!!!
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Thank you so much for your warm and loving words, Janet. The nickname will appear in things I’ve written. Now you know its source.
I, too, love this font. It is what attracted me to this WordPress theme. I wish I knew what it is called. Perhaps the name is somewhere in the blog settings. I will take a look and see if I can put a name to the font face.
(I feel like the Supreme Court justice who said “I know it when I see it.” )
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I did some sleuthing. Calling the little girl in me that thought she was Nancy Drew!
I could be wrong but I found this font somewhere in the settings. I don’t remember choosing it. Perhaps it chose me?
ALEGRAYA
https://typekit.com/fonts/alegreya
It’s only rock and roll,
but I like it.
;>
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Hi Pamela.
I look forward to meeting you at Kindling Words. I am a 4th generation Brooklynite. Erasmus Hall grad. Brooklyn Law grad. Parents had summer place in Sag Harbor. Two of my best friends there were Colson Whitehead’s aunt and his dad’s cousin.
I played piano , clarinet and flute. Relearning clarinet now, I hope. Deep in a Harriet Tubman MG history. Doing research, prewriting, … you know.
See you soon.
Linda
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Linda! So good to see you here! I’ve neglected this blog. And here you were, quietly waiting for my return.
Thank you for your patience.
I loved spending time getting to know you at Kindling Words.
You’re a wonderful new old friend.
Pamela
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