I hold a photograph in my hand. A picture from long ago. Though frayed and fading, it is one that tells a story. A melancholy tale of family, friendship, love and loss. And the unrelenting passage of time. I study the image taken with my father’s old Polaroid camera. Fifty years have come and gone,Continue reading “To David on his 60th Birthday”
Category Archives: Mothers
The Marvelous, Mystical Cure of a Bath
What is your favorite hobby or pastime? “There must be quite a few things that a hot bath won’t cure, but I don’t know many of them.” Sylvia Plath I am addicted to baths. It began in my childhood, at what age I cannot say for certain. I can envision myself and my two sisters bobbingContinue reading “The Marvelous, Mystical Cure of a Bath”
The wit, courage, love, perseverance and humor of the Irish, particularly, my dearly departed mother☘️
What aspects of your cultural heritage are you most proud of or interested in? “On the Road Again” “Your mother,” began Jimmy Dillon, who sat contentedly perched on the bar stool next to mine. It was Christmas Eve and the atmosphere rang of reunion and festivity. Publicans was our beloved hometown bar; a place whereContinue reading “The wit, courage, love, perseverance and humor of the Irish, particularly, my dearly departed mother☘️”
Whisked Away
My mother was a minimalist who disliked clutter of any sort. Our home was beautiful, warm, open and airy but devoid of any type of knickknack, or paraphernalia she deemed unattractive or cumbersome. A snapshot of our living room: simple sheer white linen curtains, a silky cherry baby grand piano adorned with one family photoContinue reading “Whisked Away”
Finding Mary
A visit to a cherished next door neighbor, fifty years later, revealed a surprising revelation; you can go home again…
The Galetti Guest House
We sit together miserably, my sister and I, on the sofa of our NYC apartment. Though close in proximity we make sure to stay at least a foot apart, not daring to chance brushing up against each other, even for a split second. The sweltering heat, still villainous at 10 PM, permeates every nook andContinue reading “The Galetti Guest House”
Please Mom, May I’ve Some More?
My mother, a splendid cook and never one for following a recipe, on Sundays only, always prepared a roast. Whether it was the traditional roast beef or a succulent loin of pork I recall the aroma as if it were yesterday. The evening always began pleasantly, peacefully, as my family sat around the dining roomContinue reading “Please Mom, May I’ve Some More?”
On the Road Again
“On the road, again, just can’t wait to get on that road again. Going places that I’ve never been. Seein’ things that I may never see again. And I can’t wait to get on the road again.” Willie Nelson “Your mother,” began Jimmy Dillon, who sat contentedly perched on the bar stool next to mine.Continue reading “On the Road Again”
Whisked Away
If there was a word that existed to describe the opposite of a hoarder, that would describe my mother.
Ode to a Pheasant
“See! from the brake the whirring pheasant springs, And mounts exulting on triumphant wings” Alexander Pope Quotes , Source: Windsor Forest (l. 111) I cannot say for certain when I first made his acquaintance or tell you the exact day he stole my heart. We had just moved to a small town in Connecticut fromContinue reading “Ode to a Pheasant”
Shangri-La 