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WHENCE
When you ask me from wheremy family comes, do notlook surprised when I answerthat it depends on the directionof the wind, but with natureas no more than a passive observer.In my case it is the fickle windsof war and diplomacy that markmy origins, my maternal rootsdeeply planted in soil Lithuanian orperhaps Russian or briefly Polish.And…
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PEKING
Chi-Chi was a cute pekein a very “runt of the litter”sort of way, cuddly buthardly the show dogher breeders had intended.I asked why she was calledChi-Chi and my father searchedand showed me her AKCpapers, with the full namethat would’ve made thoseof Spanish royaltypause to consider the brevityof their seemingly endless names.She was a simple joy,…
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ON ITS HEAD
Death has an uncanny knackfor turning normalcy on its head.My mother was never readyat the time my parents had to leaveeither selecting outfitsor jewelry, the right shoes,as my father stood by fidgetingand looking at his watch,knowing better than to say anything.Yet she left without notice,no delays at all, just suddenly goneso unlike her to make…
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RADIOACTIVE
I cannot say for certain which dayI became the familial isotope,but I know my parents beganaccreting neutrons not longafter their marriage, boundto their mutual core, unboundfrom me, adopted into the family,and I then became the isotopeof the family but remote,easily enough forgotten,when I was not present.That is, I suppose, one possiblefate for an isotope, it’s…
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WETLAND BRAVADO
He was the smallest, thatis what drew you to him.Still, he had a certain bravadoa serious strut to his walk.Perhaps it was becausehis father was there, a protectorin part, in another part a challenge.He knew his mother was lookingso it became a matter of pride.He could imagine himselfa father one day, his own childrentrailing behind…
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SAINTS AND SINNERS
I am a distant grandchildof saints and Herod,kings and lords, andVisigoths for good measure. That half of me iswoven of ever thinnerbranches on a treethat threatens to topplefrom the lightnessof its other side, rootsdeep in the rich soilof Lithuania, the rootshitting bedrock, andthe branches stuntedand there a simpleAshkenazi Jew.
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A MOMENT
It is 1952, April, and Iam handed to the woman.I am wrapped in a thin blanket,the tall man is standing beside her.I do not recall this, but thisis how it must have happened,she finally a mother, hea father despite infertility.I do not recall her, the womanwho perhaps never held meonce I exited her body, whohid…
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GO TO YOUR ROOM
When a petulant childacts out badly, a parentwill send the childto a corner, to his room,for a “time out”the duration of whichdepends on the child’soffense and demeanor. What are we to dowhen the child hasno parents, answersto no one, even his adultchildren, where can we,the observers go, whatcan we do except cringein horror knowing thischild…
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FINAL TEST
If he were graded solelyon effort, he would havereceived a B+ but life doesn’tallow such a narrow view. He had no father, no modelso he stumbled through lookingat others, unsure which were rightwhich were botching the job. He bought an ancient firstbaseman’s glove from Goodwillthe only left-handed glove they hadand I taught him to use…
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LISA, ONCE
A phone call, a lawyer’s clerk:Can you tell me about Lisa Landesman?I pause for that is a name I havenot heard in forty years, savein a poem I once wrote,now long forgotten. She was my sister for twoor three weeks, adopted like I was,and then Mike, my then fatherdropped dead of a massiveheart attack and…
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an old writer and his words 