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GIMME A HUG
It seems odd, as I am nota hugger by nature,I love trees and hugfamilially but asidefrom family, huggingjust is not somethingI ever did. Now, when huggingis a potential deathsentence if finishedI see many around meall at a safe distanceand feel a strong desireto embrace some,knowing they wouldwelcome my arms. When this is over,when distance issomething…
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ON KNOWLEDGE
There are things children knowthat parents will never understand. Odder still, things a person knowsas a child are forgotten in adulthood. A child measures the success of a dayby the duration of the parentdemanded bath at its end. A child know that boundaries, especiallythose parentally set, are flexibleand you don’t know wherethe limit is until…
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BUCKET LIST
Crossing the Rubicon,or any other European Riverfor that matter. Skiing the backcountryor Black Diamond at Taos Mountainor Aspen or Vail. Hiking to the basecampof Everest, or walking some portionor all of the Appalachian Trail. Standing shoulder to shoulderwith hundreds of othersat the jazz festival. Hugging my sons orkissing my grandchildrenon their birthdays. Forgetting all that…
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THE CHARM
The first one felt right,there was nothing deeper considered,just that feeling that now,I know, anyone might have providedbut then, it was somethingin a world of nothing. The second, really, wascertainly right, for life this time,the wisdom of a single failureenough to ensure success,and when it came apartthirty years later, it wasapparent it was never right,just…
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THEN, NOW
It was easier then, so let’sgo there, the spring of 1970,the location is less important,so long as it’s a coffee housewhere those barely old enoughto drink, or barely short of thatage congregate, waiting forsomething to happen or, Iseriously hoped, someone,someone with little hair, butwho carried James Joyce inhis jeans pocket, Portrait ofthe Artist the only…
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JUST ONE MORE HAND
My parents, well my father,always felt is was necessaryto stop on the way to our summer homein the Western Adirondacksto visit Uncle Morris, who mayor may not have been an unclein the blood sense, it was never clear.It was he who sold my father the cottagenear the small lake, he who nowlived in a nursing…
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NEVER TWICE
Buddhism teaches that you can never step into the same river twice. I have not stepped in a river since I was eleven. That day I stepped, my foot found a momentary purchase on a mossy rock. The outcome was predictable. I slipped, cut my thighs, broke my tibia, bruised my elbow. I did heal,…
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READING LIST
A good friend, who we hadnot seen in COVID time, visitedand we smiled when we sawthat she was reading Heidi,catching up she said on a tooabbreviated childhood, onesacrificed to circumstance My grandson, soon enoughten, says he is readingBeowulf, though not the Heaneytranslation, so there are twomore books on my booksyou must read before you die…
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BEFORE YOU LEAP
She always told himthat he should, no must,“look before you leap.” He said he understoodand would do so, almostalways, he was after alla child and no promisecould be that absolute. When he came outof the anesthesia,his arm and legin a cast, he saw herscowling at him. “I did,” he said, “I did,I looked for quite…
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TOO MANY COOKS
I can still recallthe day my motherwas ecstatic on learningthat everything grewout of a primordial soup.It was proof, shewas certain, of a JewishGod, even if he didn’tdo it all with his own hands.And, with a broad smileshe said, I’m fairly certainat the soupwas chicken, maybewith kreplach on the side.
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an old writer and his words 