We took
my grandmother to a Mexican restaurant last January to celebrate her 92nd
birthday. An enormous sombrero was placed on her head and our table was
suddenly surrounded by a circle of wait staff singing Happy Birthday in Spanish,
an indistinguishable birthday dessert topped with a cloud of whipped cream and
a candle placed before her. My grandmother has been mostly deaf for as long as
I can remember, relying on a pair of hearing aids, and in the midst of all this
commotion in her honor, she sat reading one of her birthday...
Monday, March 31, 2014
Monday, March 17, 2014
Ode to Philip Seymour Hoffman
Philip Seymour Hoffman died two days after my pregnancy was
terminated. It was Super Bowl Sunday. I was standing in the bathroom, still
high on pain medication from my operation, and my husband had opened the laptop
in the living room to find the news of his death announced to the world, amidst all this excitement about football and food. My husband said some kind of “oh
no” that alerted me to the fact that something was wrong and I had no patience
to find out what it was, seeing as I had just weeks before sat in an ultrasound
room,...
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