Tag Archives: mother

The Surprise of What We Knew All Along

Oops.  I forgot to post last Friday.  I’ve cut down from every week to every-other-week, as some of readers may have noticed—but this is the first time since beginning this blog 18 months ago that I’ve completely forgotten. Last Friday, October 26, marked the twelfth anniversary of my mother’s death.  She died at 11:35 a.m. on a Thursday, less than a month before “hanging chads” became front-page news and less than a year before my father almost boarded UAL flight 93 from Newark to SFO.  Events of enormous consequence.  Events that ushered in a new world.  I would never minimize … Continue reading

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Drawing Apples While the Germans Roll In

For years until her death in 2000, my mother and I would meet on Tuesdays at the same Japanese restaurant, before going to hear whoever was speaking that night at City Arts and Lectures.  My mother always dressed to go downtown – and a cultural event counted as “downtown.”  Her shoes were scuff-free, her purse an ample Mommy purse.  I subsisted then on adjunct faculty and freelance proofreading pay, and while I would dress in my best teaching attire, I always felt a little like Cinderella next to her. Not that she made me feel that way.  Ever since I … Continue reading

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