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Second Chance

She licked her wicked wounds and revealed her exotic and disturbing past on occasion at ladies luncheons and rotary breakfasts.When she dove into the dust of her back yard she pulled out apricot trees, watermelons, plums, pomegranates and even roses. Selma flowered in the relentless sun that would whip her sheets dry in a flash.

I am my Mother and Father

We will not cast people out for their choices in lip color, hosiery, language, religion, or the lack thereof. We will try to be “with it,” but not too with it—if you know what I mean.

Read Herring

It was a hopeful sign of family Sunday mornings to come: mornings filled with stinky fish and family love.

Father

If he had lived longer, would I have gotten to know him better? Would I sit still for the repetitive stories, ask the probing questions, complete the pictures I stopped gathering over 20 years ago? Or would I be annoyed at his slowness and frailty, at the obstinacy and routines of old men. Would I have continued to be too rushed by the crush between generations to note the gifts of either one?

RECALIBRATION

…waiting for her at breakfast, all that old anxiety fills my eyes and chest and breath; she feels like a limb again.

Carole Ponders the 52 Who Died

Fifty-two died; a tiny island in the horrific testament of six million.

A Sweet Sentimental Passover, 2014-5775

Go forth from slavery, from oppression, from the narrow places of your head, your heart, or your circumstances. Celebrate the season of freedom, rebirth, and sweetness.

Remember and rediscover

Today I mostly take care of my memories of Dad and Mom. I find the bit of understanding—the fond memory and the noble act—and I embrace it in the tale told. It can be a quiet, private thing. Sometimes I’ve made it a public thing, splashing it across my website and my stages. Is this what the commandment means? Remember, rediscover and perpetuate?

Shoes

Yes, I’m a woman of sensible, terribly sensible shoes. I still own lots of them. After a ten-pair purge I’m down to just over thirty…pair. I buy shoes prophylactically, restoratively, because they are there and occasionally even because I need them. But No, I never had Go-Go boots. Did you?

Culture

Orders and legions of never-written mandates governed what dress to wear, who to greet and how—as we were poked and prodded by grudges, shoves and insinuations.