Tattooing of Memories

On a recent unusually warm fall day we took a walk on a quiet beach. He reached for my hand and then stood still for a moment with his feet in the sand. I looked over at him, my hand in his, my arms bare thanks to fantastically unseasonable New England temperatures, and took stock…

A Grown-up On Cape Cod

During most of my young life, my mother struggled to get me to eat fish.  She was convinced that lack of fish could somehow lead a child down the dangerous path of stunted development. When she was young in East Germany, she was taught that oily fish was the key to health, and she was…