My mother’s birthday was a few days ago. She would have turned 92. Birthdays, holidays, sentimental moments make us think of beloved people gone from our lives. But today she’s on my mind mostly because of something she said more than once. On almost any night of the week our tiny … [Read more...] about The writing on the wall
Talk less, say more
I have a dream . . . in which I’m sitting at a kitchen table with my cousins—very close cousins, whom I love dearly—and we’re reminiscing, schmoozing, laughing about old times at another kitchen table, in a small Brooklyn apartment, as mythical as it was real. We tease each other about the kids we … [Read more...] about Talk less, say more