Columns

In 1989, I rented my first apartment. It was in a wonderful brownstone in the same area where I grew up. My family used to shop at the Italian Market in South Philly, an area that stretches about six or seven blocks where outdoor vendors sell merchandise, such as fruits,…

“Hang on a sec, hon,” I called to my husband in the car, at the airport, and again on the plane. “I want to get a good shot. I’m sure something from this trip will work its way into my next column.” Boy, was I right — but not in…

“Who is of so little faith that in a moment of great disaster or heartbreak has not called to his God? Who has not cried out when confronted with danger, death, or mystery beyond his normal experience or comprehension? From where has this deep instinct come which escapes from the…

How are you? It’s such a common question, I’ve even learned to say it in multiple languages: Cómo estás? (Spanish), Eich at/ata? (Hebrew), Come stai? (Italian), Comment allez-vous? (French), Nǐ hǎo ma? (Chinese), Ti kanis? (Greek) — and let us not forget, “How YOU doin’?” (Joey Tribbiani, “Friends”). Ironically, when people…

I’m a marathoner! On Sunday, Nov. 6, I ran the TCS New York City Marathon, my first 26.2-mile race. And I did it with sarcoidosis-affected lungs. In the end, each mile was like a race of its own. Miles 1–2: I’m on the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge, leaving Staten…

The other day I picked up my new glasses — a pair of bifocals, because my doctor said that progressive lenses would worsen my dizziness and vertigo. The same day, I was discharged from physical therapy because my insurance company didn’t see enough progress. Since every other treatment has…

For the past few days, I’ve been feeling distant in my relationships, mostly because of an unusual series of deaths close to me. This is the 19th year since I lost my mother. It’s also been 18 years since I was diagnosed with sarcoidosis. For some reason, I’ve been…

If you don’t use it, you’ll lose it. That’s a familiar line that most folks have heard once or twice. To be honest, I’ve heard it from my male friends more than anyone else. It seems like they had a specific meaning in mind, but as usual, it means something…

“‘How does one become a butterfly?’ she asked pensively. “‘You must want to fly so much that you are willing to give up being a caterpillar.'” — Trina Paulus, “Hope for the Flowers” Winners never quit, and quitters never win. When the going gets tough, … you know…

Recently, I’ve had a dry cough that just won’t go away. I know that’s an odd way to start a column, but it’s that annoying. Fortunately, I’m pretty sure the cough is due to the seasons changing here in New York, as my lungs and sinuses often need a few…