Plastic Farm Animals
I’m not going to lie; this is a difficult time of year for me. Life this far above the equator feels like death. I thrive on sunshine, and wither in the cold. My nose drips, and because of the dry, forced-air heat, when I blow it, it bleeds. My eyes drip and my skin chaps. […]
“It’s probably just winter”, I think, slogging through sleet and slush from the car to our back door. I’m suffering from malaise, and looking for something to blame. Lately, I find myself just going through the motions. I don’t feel like starting anything, and I really don’t want to finish anything, either. My brother Michael […]
My father is a complex human being. He is funny and cynical, educated, Spartan in his habits, short-tempered, and transfixed by Nazi Germany. At 91, he still ambulates without walker or cane, fixes his own meals, and sleeps a lot. I’m not sure he can still read, although he pretends his eyesight is fine. I […]
As he does every year, Bob rents a car and drives us to DC, our first stop on an annual trek to see my parents and four of my five brothers. We spend the night at our friend Ned’s and pick up my brother Joe at Dulles in the morning. He’d nearly missed his flight. […]
My brother John shows his greatness in small ways. Often it’s the unkind word that fails to leave his lips. His patience with our aging parents is immeasurable. Ninety and eighty-four, they cling stubbornly to their illusion of independence. If not for John’s tireless support they would be paying for assisted care. Dad lives with […]