Stories I Tell Myself
Linda Brody Bakst on Brooklyn, growing up, identity and more
Month: September 2017
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Note: Names and details have been changed in the essay below to ensure the anonymity of the participants. One of my roles, when I worked for the New York State School Boards Association (NYSSBA), was to facilitate board retreats. These sessions were designed to build trust and improve communication between board members and the superintendent,…
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I submitted a piece of my writing for publication. I sent an essay to a literary magazine that was soliciting work on the theme of ‘starting over.’ It was a topic that resonated with me, so, months ago, I sent it in. I haven’t been rejected….yet. Over the last two years and three months (but…
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I stood at the foot of the hospital bed, playing solitaire on the tray table. With each turn of a card, I looked up to see my father’s large blue-gray eyes staring at me. Memorizing my face? Asking for something? He was beyond speech; four years into his illness. Chronic lymphocytic leukemia was supposed to…
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His skin is mottled, He is 94. He stands erect, He walks with assurance. He says, I feel the same as I always feel. Right now, I think. He can’t imagine feeling different, He doesn’t remember. Months before, winter of 2016, hospitalized 5 times or more in Florida, Weakened by persistent diarrhea…
