When I interviewed Grace for an article I wrote for Cosmopolitan called, “Young Women Who Made a Mint,” we quickly became friends; really close friends. We were both in our 20s back then, and we fell deeper into “twinship” the first time she came to my apartment...
I grew up with the horrors of the Holocaust seared into my bones. Like mother’s milk I ingested family stories–my imprisoned 14-year-old mother stealing a potato from distracted Nazis to save her best friend who was ill from tuberculosis; my father witnessing his...
Fans of Amy Ferris’s Facebook journal, “Post Coffee, Post Wine,” treasure the “Amy-isms” she comes up with on a daily basis. Like these: Open carry your life. No more crumbs. Wear your scars like stardust. Taking charge is way different...
A binge of insomniac googling led to the 2 a.m. discovery that my abusive ex-husband was dead. According to the obituary, Bill* died five months earlier at his Pennsylvania home, with his “loving” wife of 33 years at his side. Mourners included three...
The day before I watched Steven Spielberg’s West Side Story—my first movie in a theater since the start of the pandemic—my sister Barb and I reminisced about seeing the original 1961 classic four times in two days at the Allerton Theater in the Bronx. Mom wanted to...
