Tag Archives: memoir

From Home Depot to Pulp Fiction

“Can’t repeat the past?” he cried incredulously. “Why of course you can!” He looked around him wildly, as if the past were lurking here in the shadow of his house, just out of reach of his hand. — F. Scott … Continue reading

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The Incredibly Shrinking Tick

“The only time you really live fully is from thirty to sixty. The young are slaves to dreams; the old servants of regrets. Only the middle-aged have all their five senses in the keeping of their wits.” — Theodore Roosevelt … Continue reading

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Driving in the Car with Anna Karenina

Trying to call up an old memory is like checking my wrist for the time and realizing I haven’t worn a watch in years. I stare blankly, trying to remember what I was looking for, but it’s not there anymore. … Continue reading

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Hey, Raw Meat!

My little brother and I would wait for the card game to end in the deserted ladies lounge. We got unlimited sodas from the bartender and a pocketful of quarters for the jukebox, playing “The Night the Lights Went Out … Continue reading

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Fried Chicken on the Marrakesh Express

Fried Chicken on the Marrakesh Express With many restaurants closed for Ramadan, we resigned ourselves to a greasy meal of fast food in the train depot. While not happy about this, truth be told, I couldn’t look at another tagine … Continue reading

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Bringing my dad to the hospital

Bringing my dad to the hospital Regret is not quite the right word for how I feel about bringing my father to the hospital to die, but it comes pretty close. My father was a burly, no-nonsense man who wasn’t … Continue reading

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Just Do It Backwards

Just Do It Backwards 2012… “Game.” I bend my knees, arch my back, twist, a slingshot pulled back; for one frozen moment, I’m still as the tennis ball rises in the air. The spring uncoils: reaching high, I connect with … Continue reading

Posted in Fitness, Scene from a Memoir | Tagged , , , , , | 35 Comments

Tuk-Tuk Hell, or Heaven

Tuk-Tuk Hell, or Heaven A description of hell from Barbara Kingsolver’s The Bean Trees: If you go visit hell, you will see a room like this kitchen. There is a pot of delicious stew on the table, with the most … Continue reading

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How to Respect Your Kid’s Intelligence and Ruin Easter All at the Same Time

Early one Easter morning, my older son crawled into my warm bed with my husband and me. He was about four years old at the time. “Mom,” he said, waking me. “I found my Easter egg basket and Dan’s too.” … Continue reading

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My Antonia Didn’t Change, But I Sure Did

My Ántonia Didn’t Change, But I Sure Did Deep in the pages of My Ántonia, I was shocked to find that the fortunes of the title character, an impoverished Bohemian girl, had changed since the last time I’d read the … Continue reading

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