Category: son
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I’m Not Sleepy
[Goya’s The Sleep of Reason. Photo credit: Goodle search.] [NOTE: The following post is rated S for sad.] When I was a young boy, about a hundred years ago, my mother would sit on the edge of my little bed and stroke my brown hair. It was well after my bedtime. I should have been sleeping the…
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Good-bye Rosie
[Rosie. Photo is mine.] My mother passed away in her sleep on a quiet Easter Sunday morning in 1992. A sad event indeed. Just days before on Holy Thursday, she sat in the living room of our home and told the priest that she was tired and was prepared. She was ready. She also told…
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My Son’s Beard
I saw him being born. Later on, I saw peach fuzz on his adolescent chin. A few years later, when he moved in with us, in New York City, I think he borrowed my razor. Yesterday, I stood next to him at The Beacon Bar. I sipped a beer, he had something I never…
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My Father’s Books
The 1950’s & 1960’s On Sunday nights, in the house at 420 Front Street in Owego, NY, there was usually an empty chair in our living room. My mother and three older brothers would gather around an oversized wooden console that housed a Black & White TV. The Ed Sullivan Show was about to come…
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Our Dream Trip: So What’s All The Fuss?
[Photo source: Google search] It began as an ordinary rainy morning in Albany, New York. We stayed over at a Marriott to break the trip a little and to get a fresh start for the final leg. To Manhattan and drop off the Budget rent car, get to our hotel on W. 35th St., and…
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One Son
[Brian. April 24, 2018.] No, the title of this post is not something I stole from a menu from one of the many Korean eateries on W. 35th Street. And, if you look at the photo above…(I always use a lead-in graphic for my posts), I can tell you certain things: It’s a profile of…
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Coal For Christmas
[Watercolor sketch by Paul Egan. Date unknown.] [Note to my readers: If you think you’ve read this blog before, don’t think you’re getting senile. It’s perhaps the fourth or fifth time I’ve posted it. I’ve tweaked the story several times to try to make the narrative better, clearer and more truthful. This is not a made-up story by…
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Fathers and Coffee
One more cup of coffee before I go… –Bob Dylan [My photo] This gray, almost monochromatic morning, I lounged in bed reading yesterday’s New York Times. It’s something we did every weekend for years while we lived in Manhattan. The…
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On Front Street At The End Of October
Different times…different places…different memories… [Photo source: Google search.] I should mention that, as a child, one of my favorite things to do this time of year was to kick a pile of leaves along a stone sidewalk. It’s gloomy, rainy and windy here in the North Country. It rained hard before dawn this morning so…
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