I learned to hide my lupus diagnosis as if it were a crime. I became skilled in the art of misdirection.
The echo. It’s there. It’s what women are told. We’re too sensitive, too emotional; we’re overreacting. Why can’t we be rational, reasonable?
So many times in life, Daisy grew through the cracks, through what seemed like impossible obstacles.
I knew before I truly knew. When the icon revealing the new Facebook message from Daisy’s brother flashed on my screen, my heart fell to my feet.
Superstition ruled my mind. More than I realized. I had no idea, within hours, there’d be no child to mother. And then he was gone. And we were childless.
There is no support or safety net to break one’s fall when friendships fade or split apart. There's not an acceptable period of isolation.
I did it for the money, sure, but also out of a strange mixture of boredom, perversion, and self-abnegation. Giving myself away, one song at a time.
I landed at Miami International Airport knowing nothing other than that my Cuban father and Russian mother had decided to move our family there.
At first, every time the quarry had a group scheduled, the same level of panic would hit all over again.
I walk out onto our fake dinosaur quarry, and watch in fear as a line of second graders get ready to witness my first time delivering the lesson.
World War II veterans suffered acutely at the hands of a society intent on a single conformist vision of life that did not include mental illness. (Image of Pat courtesy of the author.)
I'm trying to unearth the secrets of my grandfather’s story of when veterans come home. I'm looking at what happened to the men of WW ll.