Last Sunday, my fella and I road tripped south to Beacon’s Dia modern art museum. To be completely truthful our destination was completely secondary to the fact that we were seeking a good midway point between Albany and Long Island City. You see, one of my 41 paternal first cousins was in town from Ireland … Continue reading Art (of) Mexican
When I visit Ireland, I go with a wish list of things I hope to do. These days, most of my activities involve seeing family, particularly my late father’s remaining siblings. I’ve learned, however, that getting together isn’t always possible - and to not take it personally or as a rejection. We’ve all got busy … Continue reading Grave.Tender.
One of the first things I ever wrote was about my mom and the sweaters she knit. In case you don’t know, my mother has always been remarkably talented when it came to needlework, be it sewing, knitting, crocheting or embroidery. In the piece I wrote, I imagined what her thoughts might have been as … Continue reading Knitted together
The feeling of having a child you actually birthed nestled in your arms, asleep and lightly drooling. If time travel were an option, I’d like to have that sensation again - with each of my boys. My Christmas ornament which had been a gift from my kindergarten teacher. It was glass, originally red, with my name correctly spelled in … Continue reading Missing
I’ll take Italy
Prior to my recent (2018 and 2022) trips to Rome and Naples, I’d visited Italy twice. Both of those trips were with my former husband, once just the two of us and once with the boys in tow, along with friends. They were both good trips, particularly the one in 1995, sans kids. Our original … Continue reading I’ll take Italy
This was the first Thanksgiving in many years that I spent with a beloved and their family. We went to Vermont, while my sons scattered - 2 with family in Massachusetts and the other in Montreal, a mere 65 miles away from where my guy and I were staying. Even though I missed being with … Continue reading Leftover thoughts
A Facebook message asking for your phone number is probably rarely a good thing. When it comes from the third child of one of your two Jewish moms, you just know the news is going to be particularly bad - and, indeed, it was. She (S) was gone. My immediate reaction was physical, … Continue reading Motherless