It all began on the Saturday of the Tri-County Swim Meet.
A glorious turquoise sky bled into the waters of the pool where people screamed in excitement as my brother won trophy after trophy, culminating in the final relay in which his incredible freestyle kick brought glory and a championship to Brookside Swim Club.
Suddenly, my skinny quiet “baby” brother became a hero. The “sport,” as our dad said over and over again, tapping my brother on top of his blonde crewcut. Continue reading
I accept an invitation to go speed dating.
At an old shabby restaurant in ‘the city’ on a rainy Saturday morning.
It’s pouring buckets as fifty other men and women, hoping to be the “chosen one,” enter the front door with shaky hearts and bodies.
We all have one thing in common. Continue reading
I didn’t mean to, but I made a grown man cry.
A huge hulking man who wore high-heeled boots.
It all happened on a sunny Sunday in front of a restaurant on a busy Boston cobblestoned street. Continue reading
My 7-year-old granddaughter Sophie shakes her head at me in loving mocking distress. “Madre, really? You’re lost again?”
I had hoped she couldn’t tell. After all, she’s in the back seat of my SUV, munching on the brownie I gave her, looking through her bag to see if she remembered to pack her ballet shoes.
Every Tuesday I do this. In fact, she reminds me of this fact now. “Madre, how many times have you driven me to ballet school?” Continue reading