sister | sister
Mar.27.2013
By the time I entered junior high, I had become so nervous a kid that each morning I began dry heaving the instant my feet hit the icy blue linoleum on my bedroom floor. I would purposely set the alarm clock a half hour early to allow me some privacy before my brothers awakened, ready to cause a...
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Jan.18.2013
I had a pretty weighty post all set to go today, yet I decided to forgo it because of all the heaviness resulting from my Aunt Bert's demise. (There's plenty of time to be melancholy and morose; today is just not going to be that day).
Instead, I realized that yesterday's post included a...
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Jan.17.2013
(My older brother Tony and me at 3 1/2 and 2 years old, respectively)
Last night we received some very unsettling news: My Dad's sister, Alberta, had passed away.
There are very few times in my life that I can recall seeing my Dad visibly shaken. After all, this is a man who faced the horrors of...
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Dec.19.2012
People who’ve read my memoir Wrong Side of the Tracks know that my sister left home when she was about 20 years old to join what we realized gradually was a cult. So I’ve been asked, what happened to her, how is she, what’s the latest news about this beautiful and beloved young woman who, to her...
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Dec.11.2012
I've always been funny about names. I think it stems from being left nameless, known simply as The Baby for the first few months of my life. I was last in a line of six, born in the middle of a party of much too much -- excess, indulgence, neglect, and tragedy. Still, it seems like a name isn't too...
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Apr.16.2012
NOTE: RedRoom'ers, sorry that it's been so, SO long since my last post.
This subject matter may be disturbing for some readers, so please proceed carefully.
A few weeks ago, on a sunny, cold spring morning, I made a journey from my urban jungle here in Chicago to a rolling hillside in...
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Apr.05.2012
I first came to Chicago in the fall of 1977. At the time I was looking for a job in broadcast news (Which turned out not to be, but that’s another story). I’m still not sure who told me about it, but I stayed at the Belden Stratford, an apartment-hotel in the middle of Lincoln Park, which at the...
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Mar.27.2012
My sister told me a few weeks ago that she could tell in my writing that was sad. She is the only person I know that reads every word I write. She can tell by my writing that something has happened. I shared the something with her and she listened. My sister's first tendency is to go and slay the...
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Oct.20.2011
~for my Sister
The doorto yesterday opens –creaks at the hinges.
In another timewe are sitting, playingin burnished sand –barely-born, fresh presence,two toddlers, laughing
into growing, into years laterwe will runpast the familiarin search of more.
***
The dilapidated bridge –the one we...
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Sep.21.2011
I woke up this morning feeling loved and in love. In love with God, a man and 3 children, what could be better.
Last night was bible study and I sat at the feet again of some of the baddest praying-est sistahs ever. As usual the time to start is 7p.m., the time we begin is always a few minutes...
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