A Familiar Stride

October 18, 2010

I click on the “play” triangle and watch the video. My friend had filmed his walk from the Indian Consulate in Manhattan, scanning the three-block-long line to where his wife waited. Read the rest of this entry »

A Manual

September 10, 2010

Knocking on my daughter’s bedroom door, I woke her up to tell her about airplanes, towers, the pentagon and maybe even the White House. I knew how crazy it sounded from the look on her drowsy face in the doorway. Read the rest of this entry »

An Absence

August 20, 2010

Our friend Tim’s best friend was named Redmond Cooney, but we called him Red. A solid creature, a mutt, with a massive rottweiler head, a sturdy body, and a muscular tail that seemed to have a life of its own. Read the rest of this entry »


August 18, 2010

When my mother died, I wasn’t there. I was eight hundred miles away with my family in New Hampshire. Mom had been ailing, and I debated making the trip to see her; but she rallied, and I decided to stay put. Read the rest of this entry »

A Lack of Words

June 29, 2010

Friends came to visit. A young family with a two-year-old girl and a one-month-old boy. They went for a walk, and while they were away, I went to my computer to read and write and communicate. Read the rest of this entry »

A Dream

May 3, 2010

As is our morning ritual, I get dressed while listening to the radio alarm playing Morning Edition. It’s set for 7:30, over an hour after I get up, and it slowly wakes my husband. So, I usually stand at the door to our bedroom after getting dressed and say “good-bye” to a pillow over a face. Read the rest of this entry »