In my childhood, there were several occasions when Dad and I had to say goodbye. Two that were especially painful occurred during my four months of hospitalization when I was thirteen. The evening after I’d had a long operation, Dad was compelled
Family
In My Beginning
Last Saturday, here in Brooklyn, the wind brought a freshness to an afternoon that otherwise would have been too hot. I felt a vague sense of some yet earlier afternoon, a memory I couldn’t quite place, then or now. It is hidden behind the veils of
Prayers for the Reluctant
When someone offers to say a prayer for us, can it be offensive? My religion-skeptic father is seriously ill. One of his friends prayed for him right there in the hospital room, while another said she would do so on her own. Ever unwilling to rock
Blue Sky Over Texas
1 In yards opposite each other on a Texas suburban street were a Ted Cruz and a Beto O’Rourke sign. My wife’s brother fantasized about going out in the middle of the night and switching the signs. But he’d told them about it and so couldn’t act on
Green-Wood
That Friday afternoon last month, a Green-Wood Cemetery employee named Katie escorted Laura and me as we toured options for our future remains. We walked from buildings to open areas with ponds and vistas, on to another building, and then to yet
Grandma: A Reminiscence
The gulf in experience between Grandma Spratt and me is captured in two words from her letter of July 18, 1977: “at Wisconsin.” She lived in the town of Darlington, England. When I was four, my parents, brother and I, who were all born there, moved