Stories I Tell Myself
Linda Brody Bakst on Brooklyn, growing up, identity and more
Category: Loss
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Last week’s blog post began by explaining more about the communist takeover of Iwie and then the early part of World War II when the Germans invaded David’s town. It also recounted David’s involvement with the partisans. I misplaced one element of the story. It is important that I get this telling as accurate as…
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Changes were afoot in 1982. It was a big year for the Brody family. Joshua, the first grandchild, born to my brother and sister-in-law, Mark and Pam, arrived February 1st. In April Uncle Terry and Aunt Barbara moved from the upstairs apartment in Canarsie to a large suburban house in Morganville, New Jersey.…
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Note: The following is a longer post than usual. For readers who have been following me from the beginning, some of the stories may be familiar. I have pieced together previous blog posts, along with new material, to create a more complete narrative of my relationship with Nana (my maternal grandmother). I am experimenting with different…
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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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Her skin smelled different as I gave her a hug. Nana was just back from a vacation to Florida. Her freckles had blended from the sun, her face and arms a burnished copper. I felt a little sad, a bit distant. I wanted her familiar scent, her familiar skin. But I was grateful that she…
