Mama’s Newspaper Clippings

I’m not here to tell you about Mamá’s letters. No. It’s what she included in her letters that I’ll always remember. Continue reading

My Player Piano

Of course, you should know that for years I myself played the piano. Quite adept at it, I might add. I swear I could hear my mother weeping whenever I played Chopsticks. “I paid for years of lessons for this?” I’d smile in agreement for I was in bliss. Continue reading

Moments from My Youth

I am 10 and in a rare moment, my father takes us to Carvel for ice cream. I love their soft ice cream that swirls out of a machine. I choose vanilla, the flavor of sweetness and my mother’s apron on baking days. Continue reading

But Inside I’m White

I am not white and yet I feel white. Some might say, I am brown or olive skin. Though to me, being olive makes me sound like I’m green around the edges. I’m not, of course. Continue reading

A Loving Homage to the Movies

From as early as I can remember I could be found in the darkness of a movie theater with a fistful of malt balls in my hand, my bottom firmly planted on a seat somewhere in the middle row of the theater, and my legs dangling over the seat’s edge, barely skimming the floor, which was covered in chewing gum and a sticky coating of Coca Cola. Continue reading