Sleeping on the Edge

Big Brother Short Stories

A friend of ours came over one evening last week. She is a long time friend of T’s and mine from our college days and she’s always had a sort of special relationship with each of us. As E has gotten older, he’s grown to love her as well. She can match his energy and enthusiasm on a consistent basis, which us a big reason for his affection for her. The other reason is that she’s never afraid to get down to his level, whether they’re doing puzzles or dancing or fighting with light-sabers.

As we sat down to eat dinner, E started telling the three of us something that I can’t remember, although it was clearly very important to him at the time. Continue reading “Big Brother Short Stories”

Continental (Part 2)

Here’s the next installment of the piece I posted two weeks ago. I’m still not quite sure where I want to go with it so we’ll just have to wait and see what happens. As always, any and all feedback is welcome.

Enjoy!

Maria chose the table facing the wall and placed her Prada bag on the seat next to her. She had taken great care to plan her outfit that day; the beige in her bag matched her jacket and ballet flats perfectly and her pink, flowing skirt picked up the thin stitching in the bag’s lining. Even her strawberry-blonde hair seemed to have gotten the message, pulling the other colors together as it sat it long waves below her shoulders. It was getting warm outside but she kept her jacket on, not wanting to draw too much attention to herself by baring her shoulders. Her cell phone lay on the table, its dark screen staring back at her. Continue reading “Continental (Part 2)”

Writing My Legacy

During the 1995-1996 NBA season, the Chicago Bulls – my Chicago Bulls – dominated the league. They won 72 games out of an 82-game season and lost only three times in the playoffs, beating the Seattle Supersonics in six games to clinch the first of their second set of three championships in a row. That team is considered, if not the best team of all time, at least one of the top two or three, as arguments can be made for the ’86 Celtics or maybe one of those early ’80s Lakers teams.¹ The Bulls were led by Michael Jordan, Scottie Pippen and Dennis Rodman, as well as one of the strongest supporting casts ever behind sharpshooters Toni Kukoc and Steve Kerr (more about him in a minute) and the versatile Ron Harper. Continue reading “Writing My Legacy”

Sleeping on the Edge (Again)

I’ve been having trouble sleeping lately.

Some of it is because I have things on my mind. I spend my days writing progress notes and service plans and working with families to help them find ways to improve their kids’ behaviors and develop more positive and productive relationships. There are always tasks I know I haven’t finished or conversations from home visits that I haven’t been able to shake by the time I go to bed. There are also the typical parent and husband thoughts that keep me up, like how things are going to change when our new baby comes or thinking of ways to keep a strong relationship with T while we’re both so occupied with balancing work and taking care of our family. Continue reading “Sleeping on the Edge (Again)”

Continental (Part 1)

This piece is really different from what I usually write. It’s short and I’m not sure if it will lead to anything (there also isn’t a “Part 2” at the moment) but I would love to hear what you think about it. Where would you like to see this go next? What questions do you have? Any and all feedback is welcome. Feel free to leave a comment here or on the blog’s Facebook page.

Enjoy!

Jack placed his coffee on the counter that faced the window. He took his newspaper out of the black plastic bag and put it next to the coffee. The bag slumped to the side, now holding only the box of cigarettes Jack bought at the bodega earlier that day. Jack leaned his cane against the metal window frame, pulled out the brown metal chair and sat down carefully, gripping the counter for support. He leaned back gingerly, wincing at the nagging pain in his lower back, and gazed out the window at the cars slowing to a stop in advance of the red light at the nearby intersection. Continue reading “Continental (Part 1)”

Living in the Moment

I had a dad moment this past weekend.

Last week, T, E and I were in the car and one of my favorite Billy Joel songs came on the radio. T and I immediately started singing, belting out the words at the tops of our lungs and dancing in our seats.¹ I looked back at him a few times during the song so that I could see him grinning widely and dancing in his car seat along with us. E had never heard the song before but he could tell that it was important so he joined in. Continue reading “Living in the Moment”

The Times, They Are A-Changin’

I was having a conversation with E the other day when I realized it.

I don’t even remember what we were talking about. It could have been about something that happened at school or one of his new favorite television show characters or our upcoming move to a new apartment.¹ It could have been about his train tracks or his stuffed animals or about him singing one of his two new favorite songs, Etz Chayim (The Tree of Life) and The Beatles’ “Love Me Do.”

The truth is that it doesn’t really matter what we were talking about. Continue reading “The Times, They Are A-Changin’”

No Better Feeling

I got to hold a baby the other day.

I don’t just mean a young child. E is three and a half and still gets referred to as “the baby” sometimes. That’s not what I mean. I mean a baby, barely a week and a half old on the day when I met him. He was a floppy mush of skin and hair with the tiniest little mouth that seemed to open twice as wide when he needed to yawn. His father brought him into the room, holding the baby in his forearm in a perfect football grip, and gently laid him into my arms.

I laughed and said, “Jesus, I forgot how small they are when they’re born.” Continue reading “No Better Feeling”

In Defense of Pet Owners

My family had a cat when I was very young. It was a ginger tabby by color but it was a stray that my parents took in, so I’m not really sure what breed it was. My parents named it Rambam, after the famous rabbi and doctor of the Middle Ages, Maimonides.¹ Ginger tabbies apparently have a reputation for being easy-going but that didn’t apply to Rambam. My parents were always very clear with anyone who would come to our house that they should leave the cat alone because he had a habit of biting strangers. Rambam would lie on his back on the stairs, the upper half of his body hanging off the side, leaving his belly exposed so that people would try to rub it. Then, when they did, he would nip at their hands and arms. (He was devious like that.) Continue reading “In Defense of Pet Owners”

Under Better Circumstances

They say you can never go home again.

I suppose that’s true; just as you can never step into the same river twice, because the water is constantly moving, home will be different every time you come back. The people may be the same, or at least appear to be, but they are moving too. They are thinking, growing, spreading their wings. They are separating, searching for their own identities, their own callings. They’re coping, looking for handholds along the way, just as you are. Just as we all are. The people look the same, but they aren’t. And neither are you. Continue reading “Under Better Circumstances”