My father went to New York City in his twenties. He was the ninth and final child of a dirt-poor country butcher, the sixth child of the butcher's second wife. He'd grown up in rural Ohio, before the big roads were paved, when one side of State Route 585 was brick and the other side… Continue reading Here I Am
Category: Memories
The Best Gift
I was having lunch with my college roommate, and she reached into her bag as we prepared to split the check. She pulled out a wallet and unzipped it, and I demanded to see it at once. It was buttery brown leather, with a zipper on three sides, and room for everything. Longer than usual… Continue reading The Best Gift
Pillows
My current decorating strategy, as anyone who has visited the house knows, is just to hang on until the children move out, and then start over. I don't see much point in buying nice furniture that is going to suffer various protracted indignities, and I gave up on the living room carpet long ago. But… Continue reading Pillows
And it came to pass …
Over the years, my mom told us this story from time to time. Often when things looked grim, but sometimes just because it made her laugh. It was one of her favorites. It was probably in the Reader's Digest, and it's almost certainly apocryphal, but I thought of it this morning as I was driving… Continue reading And it came to pass …
That Hat
I was in the grocery store checkout line when a woman caught me eyeing her husband. She seemed curious rather than irritated, but I figured I should explain myself. “That hat,” I told her, nodding at her husband. “My dad always wore a hat like that.” Her husband turned around and smiled. “Like this?” he… Continue reading That Hat