Category: Memoir
Words in Malaga
SOME MARRIAGES LAST TOO LONG, and so do some honeymoons. Mine had already lasted seven months, and we were again in the middle of an argument that left me sitting alone watching the road go by. Tom drove, the back of his head all I could see from the rear seat of the van. Outside…
India Times Three: 4
2024 continues The next morning, Erin and I flew south to Madurai. Our new driver, Mooney, was an incredibly handsome young man clad in an immaculate white shirt and clean, pressed slacks. The seats in his SUV were encased in spotless white covers, and between the passenger seats he had placed a basket of snack-size…
India Times Three: 3
2001 Continues Una and I had a decision to make. A longer, more comfortable trip versus a faster trip in an Indian second-class train car. I was inclined to experience traveling like a local. Van travel and Girl Scout backpacking taught me I didn’t always need luxury to enjoy a journey. Una was older, but…
Memories of stollen
When December arrives, I begin to think Christmas thoughts. This leads to memories of hot chocolate, eggnog, mulled cider, and all the goodies that go with them. My childhood memories of Christmas always include the German holiday bread called Stollen. Early in her marriage, my mother learned to make this traditional confection to please my…
The Help of Strangers
Mexico, September 1971 TOM AND I WERE ONLY a few weeks into our honeymoon road trip. It was late afternoon on our second day in Mexico, and we were sweaty and tired from the long, hot drive across the Sonora Desert. The city of San Luis Potosí slumbered under the siesta-time September sun. Though it…
A Mother’s Memory of Her son’s bootcamp graduation.
Some years ago, I took an emeritus class at U.C. Irvine in travel writing. There I learned that a travel essay needs to be more than a travelogue. To grab readers, travel writing should also have attitude. The writer’s voice is essential, as it is through their eyes the reader views the adventure. I hope…
Chinese Morning
Beijing, 2002 TOM BURST INTO THE HOTEL ROOM. “I’ve found the market!” he said. “It’s just around the corner.” His enthusiasm pulled me out of my jet-lagged stupor more effectively than the two cups of tea I had just drunk. We had arrived in Beijing the afternoon before. After eating a Chinese meal in a…
A Man In Love With His Wife.
Sicily, near Palermo. 1972 We met Albert and Rosalia fifty years ago, and our few minutes of friendship shine in my memory. Tom and I were on the honeymoon of a lifetime, living in a Volkswagen van and traveling from one continent to another, from one country to another. Twenty-four hours before, we had endured…
Finding My Jewish Story
I EXPERIENCED EUROPE for the first time on a family trip in the summer of 1960. My seventeen-year-old romantic heart fell in love with Venice with its pastel buildings, sparkling water, twisting alleyways, and spires gleaming in the sun. Even the presence of my mother with her rules and judgements and my little sister with…
Origins of a Novel
EVERY TIME I HOLD one of the silver spoons in my hand, I remember. My thumb strokes the simple design on the handle, the capital L and the flat, crossed ribbons. I admire the elegant shape of the spoon, and I remember. It is not even my memory. It is my grandmother’s. I grew up…