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Leiba recognized that Fraydel was in danger of disappearing down the well of her own thoughts.
Fraydel was a secret keeping herself from the world. When she spoke, it was yet another way of keeping…
In all these rotten shops, in all this broken furniture
and wrinkled ties and baseball trophies and coffee pots
I have never seen a post-war Philco
with the automatic eye
nor heard Ravel’s “Bolero”…
Can you imagine the air filled with smoke?
It was. The city was vanishing before noon
or was it earlier than that? I can’t say because
the light came from nowhere and went nowhere.
This was years…
The guests had retired to their homes. The children had been blessed and sent to bed. The parents throughout the quarter, having discussed the one topic of the day…
I have my mother’s black hair and green eyes,
my father’s delicate thin hands
and blood that sings and flares,
blood of grandfathers—Jews along the Dnieper;
on my head, the many nights with friends
s…
Carucci is known for exploring the complex intimacies of family life in her photographs. She has said that she doesn’t deliberately set out to be provocative but rather strives for unflinching honesty…
For her book Florida Family Portrait, Gelles photographed her family in the same pose over twenty years during trips to visit her parents in Florida. A comment on family, growth, aging, death, and the…
So I’m glad I got the napkin back. Because she made it for me when we had all the time. Back in the old country when the two of us loved each other better than anybody else in the whole world. I had…
My mother and father were an embarrassment to me, up until high school. They were much older than my friends’ parents (my dad was forty- seven and my mother was forty- four when I was born), and they…
On Saturdays, and on unusually busy days when my father could not take the time to come home to the noon dinner, it became my duty to take his midday meal down to him, very carefully packed in a large…