Stories I Tell Myself

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

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

Category: Family life

  • No Easy Answers

    I was in social studies in 12th grade in 1975 and the class was discussing the nursing home scandal that was unfolding in New York City. Terrible details of elder abuse and neglect were emerging in the newspapers. The discussion moved from the scandal to elder care as a societal value. Our teacher explained that…

  • Letters from Zada: Graduation

    For years I wanted to write about my family. When I started writing in a serious way a year and a half ago, I thought I would be focusing on my relationship with my grandmother, Nana. I have written about her, and I will continue to explore those memories and how they shaped me. I…

  • Road Trips: Illinois

    It was dark out when we piled into the car. The early morning air was still cold even though it was mid-June. I was shivering in my shorts, which I wore because I knew it would get warm and stuffy as the day wore on. I had to coordinate my legwear with my brothers so…

  • Uncle Mike

    We were laughing in the snow. Tossing snowballs at each other in front of our house in Canarsie. Sliding around on the snow-covered walkway and driveway, enjoying the horseplay. The way I remember it, my brothers, Uncle Mike and maybe my cousins, Laurie and Ira were there. But, I may be remembering a photograph of…

  • A Bit More from the Sunshine State

    We went to Florida to check on the folks. We left on a cold Spring day from Albany and arrived two hours later to a warm breeze in Fort Lauderdale. We picked up the rental car and got on the highway heading to my mom. “Enjoy this ride,” Gary, my husband, said with a laugh,…

  • And now for something completely different

    When I was in elementary school I wrote poetry. I did it for a number of reasons. First and foremost, it was assigned by the teacher. I think there was a unit on poetry in each grade. But, there were other reasons, too. When I wrote a poem, I got positive feedback from the teacher…

  • Florida – The Sunshine State

    I went on my first trip to Florida with Nana and Zada when I was in fifth grade. I’m not sure why I was chosen to go to Miami Beach with them – I was the fourth of the five grandchildren. It was my first time on a plane. I survived the flight without incident.…

  • Zada, my cello and me

        I was lugging my cello to the bus stop, finally bringing it home from Bildersee Junior High School so I could practice over the weekend. A familiar mustard-yellow Toyota Corolla pulled up to the curb next to me and I saw Zada, my grandfather, roll down his window. “Lindele, let me give you…

  • Thumbnail Sketch: Aunt Diane

    It’s funny how I hadn’t noticed it before – the likeness around the eyes. The first time I saw Aunt Diane after my father died, it unnerved me a bit. Now it comforts me. My father was the middle child, one sister (Diane) three years older and another sister (Clair) two and a half years…

  • Hippie!!!

    Uncle Mike had a great idea. He would take my brothers and me to visit our cousins at sleep-away camp. Laurie and Ira were going to summer camp in the Catskills, the same camp Uncle Mike had attended when he was a kid. He had great memories of going to Camp Olympus and he was…