Recently Accepted for Publication
From Absence to Presence
The Grief Dialogues Blog
Gratitude to The Grief Dialogues--an organization committed to a new conversation about dying, death, and grief-- for inviting me to submit this piece about grief and the holidays.
The Crying of Lot 1875-2, The Battle for People's Park, Berkeley 1969
Take Back the Park
I reflect on marching through the streets of Berkeley during the People's Park Protest.
Sleep In at BHS
I describe the sleep-in we had at my high school following the People's Park march.
Sunday Morning Tie Men
Existere Journal of Arts and Literature
I try to make sense of my father’s dubious business dealings after process servers show up at our home on Sunday morning, while we are still in our pajamas.
My beloved second mother, James Ella, brought a dash of Christian prayer and a new moral standard to our Jewish home.
Watching with Our Eyes Closed
Crack the Spine
From the time I was a child on my father’s knee, I have been exploring his blindness and the effect it had on our family.
Yom Kippur vs The Giants
Suffocated by my dress clothes, I sit through a Yom Kippur service with my mother and sisters, while my father and brothers listen to the World Series on the radio.
No Feet on the Railing
Sixteen years after his death, my family goes to court to settle my father’s complex estate, the longest probate in California history.
Where We Find Her
Diverse Arts Project
My quest to locate my mother after her death.
The $10,000 Offer
Serving House Journal
When a South American friend offers to pay me $10,000 to marry him for his citizenship, my father goes ballistic.
The Battle of the Brians
My mother and I watch Brian Boitano and Brian Orser compete for the Gold medal in the 1988 Olympics.
I was the featured essayist for the Spring/Summer issue of this exceptional women’s poetry journal.
Falling Off the Cliff
Magical thinking overtakes me when my blind father turns the family car around on a narrow fire road overlooking a terrifying precipice.
Hold a Good Thought
Following my mother’s death, I ask crucial questions and struggle to find faith.
I am a Marionette
I mourn the loss of my ancestral threads after both of my parents are gone.