Stories I Tell Myself

Linda Brody Bakst on Brooklyn, growing up, identity and more

recent posts

about

Author | Brooklyn-born Jewish American on a search for identity & deeper meaning. Debut book “More than Matzoh Balls” out 2/15.

Year: 2018

  • Another Monday Morning

    I bet you can guess. It is another Monday morning and I’ve got nothing – nothing but excuses. But, again, I have a good one. Need I say more? I think not. See you next week.

  • Forgiveness

    Note: I wrote a post previously that included portions of this story (here). I wanted to write about it in a different way, explore it further.  I met Mindy before we even moved to Canarsie. I was a month shy of my fifth birthday. In the twilight of a warm August evening in 1964, we drove…

  • High Anxiety

    I have always prided myself as someone in touch with their feelings.  I can usually pinpoint the source of my emotions. Frustration with a relationship, disappointment in an outcome, anxiety about a challenge, excitement about an upcoming new experience – I can usually identify what is going on. Lately that ability seems muddled – I’ve…

  • 5 Boroughs in 5 Hours

    When Leah called me back in January and asked if I wanted to do the 5 Boro Bike Tour, my answer was a definitive and excited yes. For those of you not familiar with it, this is a 40 mile bike ride through all five boroughs of New York City. I thought it was a…

  • Mystery of Memory

    Writing this memoir blog has been revelatory in a few different ways. For one, I have gained a deeper appreciation for the mystery that is memory. Some of the readers of the blog have expressed wonder at the quantity and specificity of my memories. Some say they have no memories of their own childhoods. I…

  • Sturm und Drang

    Are you afraid I’m going to steal your lunch?” he asked. I was hunched over the table in the cafeteria of my junior high school when some guy, who I didn’t know, asked me that question. My left arm encircled a Tupperware containing a small chef’s salad, while I shoveled a forkful of lettuce in…

  • A Loyal Sport

    In preparation for writing a blog post, I went through one of my many boxes of memories. I have stashes of letters, photos and mementos and periodically I go through them either looking for something specific or looking for inspiration. In this case I was looking for something specific. I had a memory of a…

  • Motherhood

    Note: I was rummaging through a drawer and came upon a yellow pad that I jotted thoughts on many years ago. I found the following, written in March of 1988. I woke up to hear a very pleasant conversation. I look over at Gary to find that he is soundly sleeping.  At the same time…

  • Monday Morning

    I don’t have a blog post ready – again! I need to get back to my writing routines. Lately it has been difficult. We were in Boston, then Florida, I was sick and preoccupied with an event that was coming up. I haven’t written about this on the blog, in part because it wasn’t my…

  • The Joy of Flying

    Yesterday began at 4:40 a.m. in a Residence Inn in Miramar, Florida. Gary awoke with a start because the alarm on his phone was supposed to go off at 4:30, but in his exhaustion the night before, he set it for 4:30 p.m. Fortunately he opened his eyes only ten minutes later than the alarm.…