There was no relief, no euphoria—only dull shock. I fell asleep. When I awoke fifteen minutes later, or maybe it was an hour, I was disoriented. When I tried to stand, my legs cramped from my hips to my toes. I was dehydrated.
enough joy and love to see me through my most recent loss, my missing my own mother as well as those women who no longer are present in life but live large in my heart and memories: Marilyn, Faye, Sr. Libby, and now Carole. Happy Mother’s Day.
I convinced a family friend who belonged to a rather unorthodox Jewish congregation to name her in his temple for two of the women I loved best in this world.
Avery’s personal philosophy: Better to be cheated than not to help people in need.
Self-interest at any cost is the motto of our times
War is a luxury this planet can no longer afford.
But that day in the museum, it was I who held her hand in mine. It was my hand supporting her, reassuring her, protecting her.
I suffer from acquired topographical disorientation, or directional dyslexia—I’m always getting lost
Why? Why would we want to go backwards?
Has anything changed at America’s airports? We wear masks—carts are still not free and America is still not hospitable.