an old writer and his words

  • GRANDMOTHER’S RULES

    My grandmother covered allher upholstered furniture in plasticthat stuck to your bare skin in summerand was always cold in winter.She said she did not wantto get the fabric stained, thatpeople could be easily cleanedjust like plastic slipcovers.I asked her why she did notcover the rug, an off-white plush,in plastic and she chuckled,“because, grandson, crumbsneed a…

    Lou Faber

  • BONE CHINA

    Mother loved her bone china.She went out of the way to insurethat her first husband bought a completeset for her, service for twelvenever mind she never had a tablethat could seat more than eightand then only then if you crowdedmismatched chairs together.She gave it to me after her secondmarriage finally dissolved, not onlybecause I was…

    Lou Faber

  • REFLECTIONS

    When I gaze into the mirrorI see an aging man that I knowshould not be me and yetI know that he could only be me.I want to know just what I didto fall into disfavor with the gods,why they stripped me ofthe immortality I knewI once had, now gone.I know there is no getting itback…

    Lou Faber

  • YOU

    This year, just before Thanksgiving we will have been together for a quarter of a century, which sounds more elegant than saying twenty-five years. That will be more than a third  of my life, if only barely, but when I stop to think that I have spent almost a third of my life sleeping, the third I have spent…

    Lou Faber

  • HER REALM

    The child carefully packsthe sand into the red bucketand dreams of the castle sheis building, the one in whichshe can be the princess.Her parents know the tidewill soon carry her castle awayand with it her dream, but theydo not stop and wonder whylittle girls always dream of beingprincesses and never queens,for mothers of little girlsare…

    Lou Faber

  • CLINGING

    The small snail clings to the wallof the hotel room balcony, deafto the roar of the surf only yards away.He knows where he is going, knowshis purpose for being here.He moves at a pace youwould expect of a snail,and by the time we leavein two days he will haveprogressed, but it willbe impossible for us…

    Lou Faber

  • AFTER THE UNVEILING

    I threw the first shovelof dirt on your wooden coffin. I expected you to protestthe sullying of the polished wood, or to call out for your mother,or introduce us to your long dead husband,but all we heard was the thunk and chunkof the clayey earth dancing off the cover,while you maintained silence. First published in…

    Lou Faber

  • JUST IMAGINE

    Just imagine that you would be immortal.How would this affect your life, how wouldyou act differently, which relationships wouldyou end, which of those you have avoidedwould you try to begin, or take up again,Interesting thought isn’t it, easier thanthe real question that hangs over all of us,what would you do differently if you knewthat you…

    Lou Faber

  • COLUMN B

    In college, as an English majorI chose Chaucer as my mandatoryColumn B on the menu, Shakespearemy easy Column A choice since the bardand I were at least passingly familiaralthough he claimed not to remember me.Milton just wasn’t my cup of meadso he easily became the odd man out.I listened to the lectures, got comfortablewith the…

    Lou Faber

  • JUST A THOUGHT

    In a world that continues to spinwildly out of control, always threateningso shift off its axis to unknown ends,the faithful go merrily about their waywhile those who believe but doubtquestion why God does not simplydo away with evil, for that must surelyfall within His omnipotence, evilbanished by a Holy thought or two.What God would tell…

    Lou Faber