It was a hundred years ago and it was ten. It was a time when the world was a certain way — before it became a different kind of world, a certain other kind of way.
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I cooked obsessively during the funeral. If you stop, you know — and look at the screen…then the others can see the tears streaming down your face — and I just didn’t want that. I didn’t want them to read my face. So I made a pumpkin pie. And dumpling soup. And baguettes. Comfort food to comfort the cook. It was a zoom funeral. That man there is his middle son, I told my mother. And that one speaking — it is his son. And so I narrated. And cut vegetables. And toasted pecans. And hid…
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‘....we kept talking about it while going down the elevator. In fact, we couldn’t stop talking about it...’
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Faccio un casino. I am a bit of a mess. Time zones, eh. I am meeting B, of ambulance fame, for lunch. (L’ambulanza italiana) Our epic ride together forged an already burgeoning friendship. She is brave. So very brave. Walking the blocks towards the Crocetta station, boarding the train towards Comasina. I get off at the Duomo. Greeted by its morning glow…and armed soldiers. It whispers to me “benvenuta!” Benvenuta. Welcome. Benvenuto — I whisper to the train as I get back on towards Reppublica. We share an almost three-hour lunch, walking back through the markets near Porta Garibaldi, looking…
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Sono tornata. I have returned. It doesn’t seem normal to me to walk down the streets of Milano empty-handed. So in short order I have ducked into PAM for provisions. I walked into the wrong door…alarms blazing. Sono stata io — it was me, I explain to the guard. (Darn jet lag). He nodded his head and told me not to worry. Non preoccuparSi. I grab not one but four scatole di polenta, some chocolate euros for Chanukah, i pistacchi and hand over my cash. Ah, normale. I feel normal now, carting my heavy black bag on my shoulder. I…
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It was the most indulgent of rides. We scheduled a three-stop-transport…from upper Brooklyn down to his neighborhood…and then to the airport. Sure we could have taken the train. But not today. When A was in the car we discussed graduate school, summer plans, ideas for October. When he got out, after the kiss and hug and goodbye and the “don’t slam the door” I said to the driver…good afternoon, how is your day going? “It is chilly, Spring, lovely,” he said. Then he offered, “ah, your big holiday has just ended.” “I know this”, he said, “because all the cab…
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“I would imagine us at the fair, walking hand-in-paw, sharing an ice cream...carrot, of course.”
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Being Human - Childhood - Difficulty - Family - Food - For fun. - Light - Loss - This really happened.
The Snow Cake
“They were the same little people whose snowy socks went around and around my dryer...”
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A few years ago, when our three kids were teens and older, we decided to take them all on that iconic drive to the Big West….Deadwood, South Dakota, Yellowstone, Grand Tetons….the sort of thing you do with your older kids because you know that soon they won’t travel with you anymore so you try to make it an adventure. Our Oldest, Twenty-One, had become a Chassid. Lubavitcher. Traveling with him presented some challenges: kashrut, Shabbat and tolerance. We decided that part of our adventure would involve camping in Yellowstone. Picture this: it is Friday late afternoon we are just arriving…
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Months ago, before my surgery, we had dinner at an Asian restaurant with a Chinese friend, M. She ordered us a dish — a dish, she said, that she makes at home. “I can always tell how good a restaurant is by the quality of this dish”, she said. When the dish arrived it was white and opaque and long and lovely and sour and spicy. It was shredded potato. From that day on I have craved this dish. Two weeks passed and before I was admitted to the hospital I had to have this dish again. I went back,…
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I have been asked to provide an update on my recovery: I knew that I was having major surgery — but I admit I didn’t really grasp the scope of the recovery — how long it would be, how slow it would be. Just — the whole of it. Which, I have to believe, was probably good. I realized, a couple of weeks before, while watching an episode of Westworld with R, upon seeing a bone saw, that this was probably the tool that would be used to cut off part of my femur to allow fitting of the new…
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Hi there. Yes, we got back from Italy seven weeks ago. No, I haven’t written. Radio silence…yes I have been invisible. Even to myself. I have been too distracted. I had thought — I had imagined that when we would have returned from Italy I would host dinner parties for my family and my friends. It was my plan. There was a lot of food that I could cook — that I would cook — and we would toast those who we would return to — and share beautiful evenings. But that did not happen. Full disclosure: all those months…
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The train car is almost empty. It is just past midnight. This is our last time on the airport train…the Malpensa Express. (For now) I am sitting across from him — his eyes are closed. Behind him two men have boarded the train. The controllore stops by to check their tickets. They have none. They fish in their pockets for euros. He begins talking with them about the World Cup — about South America. They are all laughing now. The controllore is entertaining them — seems he is quite charismatic. He seems to love his job. Now we are in…
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This year I learned to jump. It was my plan to do a language immersion — for as long as I was able to. (It was also my plan to write about the process earlier than this.) It was my first day of class that I could barely understand the teacher. I was embarrassed, ashamed, thought that I could and should do better. I went up to him afterwards: “Mi dispiace. Sembra che abbia dimenticato quasi tutto.”. (I am sorry — it seems that I have forgotten almost everything) He put his face right up next to mine. Now I…
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Will you need help down the stairs, ma’am?, the flight attendant asks. No, I am ok going down, I tell him. After the next helper (so kind, I am overwhelmed) and the taxi we are at our destination. We are greeted with weathered leather chairs, mutton pillows. Panne velvet in gold. Fireplaces and stacked wood. I am familiar with the vibe of the heat-challenged North, even in Summer. I am so tired that I don’t think that I ever can move again. But there is dinner to be had. We decide to eat downstairs. At least there is food. And…