An article for Psycom.net. Summer camp had just begun, and it was the first hot day of the year. The air outside looked wavy. I strapped my baby daughter into her car seat and kissed her chubby cheeks. Chelsea was impish and just shy of one year. She looked up at me...
As a child, I was fond of telling dramatic stories. In fourth grade, I wrote a one-act play called “Tornado.” Four sisters lost both parents in a devastating natural disaster and were dispersed around the country only to meet up in their 20s at a Broadway audition. I...
“Mommy, the internet said Santa is fake,” my eight-year-old child cried over the phone as I drove back from my teenager’s soccer game late last year. Apparently, a quick Google search had yielded the answer: “As adults, we know Santa Claus isn’t real, but many...
“I’m sorry. I don’t know why this is happening,” I sobbed in front of the bat mitzvah tutor as we prepared for my daughter’s ritual transition into Jewish adulthood. My teenager’s eyes widened. “Mom, stop.” But I couldn’t stop crying. As an Italian Catholic, I felt...
CLICK HERE TO READ THE ARTICLE ON KVELLER “Happy Yom Kippur!” my mom shouted on speakerphone to my fiancé and his family. “Thank you,” they said. “Mom, Yom Kippur isn’t really happy,” I explained. We were staying at my future in-laws’ Long Island home, and everyone...
Preparations for “The Eve” spanned days when I was a kid, as they had for generations. Grandpa Tony invited everyone to his Italian pre-Christmas feast. Born into a family of 12 during the Great Depression, he couldn’t afford much. But Tony Mascolo of Coney Island...
