Category Archives: Suburbia
My Mother’s Love Grew in My Garden. It Still Does
A few weeks ago was my mother Betty’s yartzeit. 18 years. My mother has now been gone the length of my entire childhood. Those first 18 years seemed like an eternity as I was growing up. A lifetime, in
My Mother’s Love Grew in My Garden. It Still Does
A few weeks ago was my mother Betty’s yartzeit. 18 years. My mother has now been gone the length of my entire childhood. Those first 18 years seemed like an eternity as I was growing up. A lifetime, in
Marilyn Monroe and Me
I was four years old in 1959, when I first dressed up as Marilyn Monroe, and it would follow me to my freshman year at Syracuse University, where I regularly roamed the halls of my dorm, decked out as the
Marilyn Monroe and Me
I was four years old in 1959, when I first dressed up as Marilyn Monroe, and it would follow me to my freshman year at Syracuse University, where I regularly roamed the halls of my dorm, decked out as the
Missing My Father and his America
Yesterday, my thoughts were all about my mother. Today I’m thinking of my father Marvin, on his 9th yahrzeit. As so many of us who are children of the greatest generation, there is an uncomfortable relief I feel that he
Missing My Father and his America
Yesterday, my thoughts were all about my mother. Today I’m thinking of my father Marvin, on his 9th yahrzeit. As so many of us who are children of the greatest generation, there is an uncomfortable relief I feel that he
Waiting For The Winter Storm
Waiting For The Winter Storm A blizzard of ominous messages fills my feeds as I wait for this latest winter storm to blast the Northeast. Massive! Historic! Epic! Blockbuster ! The meteorologist’s hyperbole about the current nameless snowstorm barreling down
Waiting For The Winter Storm
Waiting For The Winter Storm A blizzard of ominous messages fills my feeds as I wait for this latest winter storm to blast the Northeast. Massive! Historic! Epic! Blockbuster ! The meteorologist’s hyperbole about the current nameless snowstorm barreling down
Christmas With the Chipmunks
In my home, there was nothing unusual that on the last snowy night of Hanukkah in December 1963, after we had lit all the candles on the menorah, one of Hanukkah gifts was a Christmas album- “Christmas With the Chipmunks.”
Christmas With the Chipmunks
In my home, there was nothing unusual that on the last snowy night of Hanukkah in December 1963, after we had lit all the candles on the menorah, one of Hanukkah gifts was a Christmas album- “Christmas With the Chipmunks.”
Forgotten Fall Rituals – Burning Leaves and Fear of Fallout
Jumping in the pile of crunchy, dead leaves, hurling them into the air like confetti, was a fall ritual for mid-century kids. So was burning leaves. That earthy smell of burning autumn leaves is forever seared in my mind, transporting
Forgotten Fall Rituals – Burning Leaves and Fear of Fallout
Jumping in the pile of crunchy, dead leaves, hurling them into the air like confetti, was a fall ritual for mid-century kids. So was burning leaves. That earthy smell of burning autumn leaves is forever seared in my mind, transporting
Forgotten Fall Rituals – Burning Leaves and Fear of Fallout
Jumping in the pile of crunchy, dead leaves, hurling them into the air like confetti, was a fall ritual for mid-century kids. So was burning leaves. That earthy smell of burning autumn leaves is forever seared in my mind, transporting
Forgotten Fall Rituals – Burning Leaves and Fear of Fallout
Jumping in the pile of crunchy, dead leaves, hurling them into the air like confetti, was a fall ritual for mid-century kids. So was burning leaves. That earthy smell of burning autumn leaves is forever seared in my mind, transporting
Every Woman Has A Story
Every woman has a story. Or two. I was thirteen when an adult cousin of my father’s tried to kiss me in a way reserved only for romantic movies. But I guess, according to Megyn Kelly, it was ok because
Every Woman Has A Story
Every woman has a story. Or two. I was thirteen when an adult cousin of my father’s tried to kiss me in a way reserved only for romantic movies. But I guess, according to Megyn Kelly, it was ok because
My Mother’s Love Grew in My Garden
With Mother’s Day coming up, a new poignancy is added to the loss and destruction of my former gardens. The image of the rose-covered arbor that came up in the Facebook memories brings with it a deep association with my
My Mother’s Love Grew in My Garden
With Mother’s Day coming up, a new poignancy is added to the loss and destruction of my former gardens. The image of the rose-covered arbor that came up in the Facebook memories brings with it a deep association with my
Garden Grief
At this time of year, my former beautiful garden in my former home appears as random pop-up memories on Facebook as it did yesterday. It startles, a poignant but at times painful reminder of the beauty I created, nurtured, and
Garden Grief
At this time of year, my former beautiful garden in my former home appears as random pop-up memories on Facebook as it did yesterday. It startles, a poignant but at times painful reminder of the beauty I created, nurtured, and
Envisioning The American Dream 