Willie has named her Apple Watch “Wendi.” Her Siri is very bossy, she tells me. Siri tells her to get up and walk around because she’s been sitting too long. Siri tells her to breathe at times throughout the day because, as I have long suspected, Willie is superhuman, doesn’t require air, sleep,…
This story, like David Copperfield – or the far better tome Flowers In The Attic – begins with a birth. Rather than the birth of the protagonist like those great works, this story begins with the birth of my parents’ basement. My parents’ basement has a legacy of its own in the annals of my family history. Friends and family…
I stood in the emergency room cubicle, helping Indy dress. It was well after one o’clock in the morning. We were both exhausted. We were both relieved he was going home. I watched Indy, noted how his Parkinson’s had robbed his once-broad chest of real estate. I thought about my childhood. Indy, the solid…