Category Archives: In my words

… After a year long slow decline, my father died on April 10 at the age 91. At his funeral on June 3, my sister Cathy and I spoke on behalf of our family to thank those who had come … Continue reading →

… Yesterday I went to work on my sonnets and they looked horrible. Changes I had made the day before that I thought then would complete everything were not as good as they’d looked; in fact, they were awful, and … Continue reading →

Yesterday I went to work on my sonnets and they looked horrible; changes I had made the day before that I thought then would complete everything were not as good as they’d looked; in fact, they were awful, and had … Continue reading →

… On the way home from the gym I stopped in Tompkins Square to look over some writing—it was cold—and heard a commotion coming—School kids marching down 7th Street and around the park on Avenue C up 10th back over … Continue reading →

… January 16 Yesterday I really thought Dad was dying. He wasn’t comfortable. If he was sitting, he wanted to go to bed; if he was in bed, he wanted to get up again. He’d sit on the edge of … Continue reading →

An afternoon to evening walk. January 12. Sunset. South Mountain. January 13 When it started to snow a few days ago, it seemed to me that the snow had finally brought the birds to the bird feeder. For many days … Continue reading →

January 1, 2017 The first day begins to end. If you are Pennsylvania Dutch and it’s New Year’s Day, you eat mashed potatoes, pork and sauerkraut. Here it is 2017 and Dad has made it to another year. Two weeks … Continue reading →

… December 30, 2016 I’m going to take a walk although it’s cold. Have soothed my dry itching skin with Crisco and off I go. Can you see by the ripples on the pond where it isn’t frozen that the … Continue reading →

… Dad gets his antibiotic at 6 a.m. and midnight; he has some sort of pneumonia; there’s been no fever and the coughing has stopped, but still he gets more antibiotics until Monday midnight. I gave him the pill at … Continue reading →

… My father’s high school portrait (he went off to war shortly after it was taken) and his grandparent’s wedding portrait all very dusty on the mantle; the glass fruit was my mother’s. My great grandfather looks like my uncle … Continue reading →