Tag: memories
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A portrait of the loud laugher as a young child
My Dad was a sensitive guy. Sometimes it seemed like the whole world was too much for him. Too loud. Too odiferous. Too crowded. Too bright. Too fast. When overwhelmed by his senses, he raised one eyebrow in disapproval, lowered his newspaper, looked over at whoever was nearby, shook his head, muttered something inaudible, raised […]
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Giving Thanks
The Thanksgivings of my childhood had much tradition tied to them. The origins of some remain a mystery; others are burned into my brain as “the way” to do things. I’ve collected a few scenes from the turkey days of my youth. Here’s to the people, food, rituals and familial idiosyncrasies that make each Thanksgiving […]
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Store-bought baked goods & lukewarm coffee
Today would have been my Dad’s 83rd birthday. Early this morning, my sister called to tell me that she dreamed of Dad, our aunt, and grandparents. She dreams of them all often. I began to cry while she was telling me the dream, overcome by a wave of missing, not yet awake enough to try […]
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Day 22: Before
If you’ve been following along, this post is part of a (nearly) once-a-day-month-long-blogging-brouhaha with my pals Amanda Hollinger, Monica Wyche, and Ami Worthen. Before they were married. Before they moved to Chicago, then back to Houston, then to New Jersey. Before he switched from cigarettes to a pipe. Before she told him she wanted children […]
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Requiem for R.E.M.
When I heard R.E.M. was calling it quits after 30 years, I immediately received a flood of memories about where I was in my life when I discovered my favorite R.E.M. songs. It’s always interesting to me how a song can become the soundtrack to a particular emotion or moment in time. A song can […]
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July 18, 2011
Dear Dad, Two years to the day that we sat in a room that smelled of newsprint and coffee as you silently slipped out the door, just as you did when I was a child falling off to sleep. I am still sometimes surprised and amazed by your absence. I am still sometimes surprised that […]
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The process
I’ve written a number of posts about my Father. His life and death have served as my lens since that day in July, 2009. I talk and write about my Dad because it helps, because honestly I think I might go crazy if I didn’t. It’s also a way to keep him part of my […]
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