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The beauty of ordinary things.
It is a big, beautiful world out there and, here in lockdown, I began missing that world big time today. It has been almost three weeks since our state of Illinois issued a stay-at-home order to control the pandemic. Missing the world beyond has led to an interesting conundrum here at home (which is why I still have not done my taxes). “I said to the apple tree, speak to…
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Speak out.
Last night, for no particular reason, Ella began writing poems. This one struck me and so, with Ella’s permission, I would like to share it with you here: speak out. you are not shy. the world needs your words. the world needs your hope and love and peace. speak out. have some courage. words powerful words. speak out. speak out, i say. we love to hear your powerful words in…
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Up
Their voices rise up.
Up through tears and unspeakable grief.
Up to where deafened leaders and the oh-so-status-quo might be able to hear…
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Blah Blah Blah
At 87, my father has little patience with the details of life (not that patience was ever his strong suit).
He doesn’t have the time for trivia. Instead, his conversations over the past months have focused on things like whether or not it hurts to be cremated…
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Don’t take the light lightly.
Ella was three when it began.
Her preschool would call. They’d tell me that she couldn’t lift her head from her desk. She was vomiting. She was ill.
Each time, I’d dash to her school to bring her home…
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Goodbye, Peter Pan.
This week, after much deliberation, I finally put the pieces in place for my father to enter hospice care. It has been, not surprisingly, a time for great reflection.
Looking back over dad’s life, I’m struck by many things…
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South Side Summer
April 12, 2019 Uncategorized During that summer when Chicago was still hog butcher to the world and the sour of pyre wafted down the block hanging like a heavy dank drape, we lived upstairs from my grandpa in a red brick four-flat building. Grandpa came home from the stockyards blood splatters on heavy boots smelling of Palmolive soap and homemade wine that he made down in our basement where I knew…
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Checking out.
“Your mom is ready to check out.” The nurse’s voice was somber. My mom had been near death for a week and, just yesterday, had finally been moved out of the ICU and into the main hospital. “How much time does she have?” I asked. “She can go any time.” “Wow.” I tried to process the million feelings that suddenly surfaced. “Please put her on the phone.” “Hi mom. I…
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So I’m at Trader Joe’s this morning.
So I’m at Trader Joe’s this morning. While shopping, I hear an employee speaking to an elderly shopper and she’s being so lovely. It is clear that the elderly person is confused and the employee is saying “No, sweetheart, we don’t sell stamps here. We’re a grocery store. You need to go to the post office for stamps, love.” I think to myself how wonderful it is to hear this…
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So hope goes.
In 1914, carrying no more than his hopes for a better life, my grandfather came to America from Croatia. Here, he worked twelve-hour days in Chicago’s stockyards. His heavy work boots were always covered in blood. I often wondered what kind of homeland would make his slaughterhouse life a coveted one…
