an old writer and his words

  • I’LL BE SEEING YOU

    We live in a zoom world, one we never imagined, and one for which we will never be prepared. But it is our life now, friends and family reduced to pixels, voices disembodied.  They tell us this is the new normal, although what is normal about it is beyond logic and comprehension. We believe deeply…

    Lou Faber

  • FINDING PEACE

    It wasn’t lost on me, mother, that this yearon the anniversary of death, you had been goneeighteen years, Chai in your beloved Hebrew,a lifetime for me, having never met yousave in the half of my genes you implantedin me when I was implanted in you. As you aged, alone, did you wonder whatbecame of the…

    Lou Faber

  • ARGOT

    There is a languagespoken within a familythat no one outside speaks.It may sound familiarbut listen carefullyand learn otherwise.It is so with my brothereven though there arethick walls between usand yet, in a few wordsintentions are obvious.He keeps me farfrom a placeI’d just as soon not goand in her panicmy mother hears onlyour words and nottheir…

    Lou Faber

  • ON LOSSES

    By the way, the headstone is lovely,designed by your niece, it pays tributeto you as aunt, as sister, as friend. I do wish it had said mother as wellbut I know I’m the one secret you thoughtwould fit into a corner of the pine box,buried with you, to be, like you, reclaimedby the rocky soil…

    Lou Faber

  • IF ONLY A BULL

    In our family Murphy was a god, and his law was the eleventh commandment. I often wanted to ask at what moment my childhood ended. Had to be before my twelfth birthday, before the day on which I went from greeter at one of my father’s business parties in our oversized family room, to bartender,…

    Lou Faber

  • DOG DAYS

    Growing up my family always had dogs,only one at a time, of course, since wewere a modern suburban family,which may be why we had a dog. It clearly wasn’t because they loved dogs,they tolerated them on good days,ignored them the rest of the timeand the good days were few if any. I never asked for…

    Lou Faber

  • WHAT’S IN A NAME?

    He only wants to knowmy spiritual name, “your falseworld name is of no matter.” I tell him I have only one name,the one my parents gave me,and it has worked to this point quite well, and no one has eversuggested I might need another,although my Jewish friends have two. “No,” he says, “your spiritual nameisn’t…

    Lou Faber

  • FORMAL PROOF

    First Proposition: You were put upfor adoption because your birthparents couldn’t or didn’t want to raise you. Second Proposition: We or I adopted youbecause I wanted you and not anotherand to give you the good life you deserved. Argument: Given all of the possiblealternatives, you ought to be thankfulthat we saved you from that other…

    Lou Faber

  • PARENTHOOD

    Two headstonesName, rank, branchof service, dates. One New Jersey, oneVirginia, both Bittleneither certain. An email fromanother Bittle, neverknew my father but his wasWilliam, and inthat moment, James Owen becamea father yet againand I complete. And later stilla single picturehe in the back row and the mirroragrees that weare truly family.

    Lou Faber

  • UNCLE

    My uncle writes his journalin cramped Yiddish, Englishwill not do, it lacks the wordshe says, to describe his world. He describes the flavorof the capon left to stewon the stove, the sweet tasteof carrots and prunes. He carefully notes the thumbof the butcher sliding ontothe back of the scale, applyingjust a dollar of pressure. He…

    Lou Faber