Category Archives: My Dad

On Ten Years Without My Father

The last thing my father ever taught me was how to install a showerhead. I was twenty-five years old and taking care of him at the end of his life in a small condominium in Southern California. The cancer had gone to his bones by this point and he was unable to get out of […]

Dear Dad: On the World We Create for Our Children

Dear Dad, I’m sitting here in my little house in Los Angeles, wishing more than I have in a long time that you were still here. Some terrible things have happened in our country and I don’t know which way to turn. I feel angry and confused and sad. So, so sad. I suddenly don’t […]

Of Things Big and Small: Nine Years Without My Father

Dear Dad, Today is August 5th, 2012. You died nine years ago. Funny, it seems like it was yesterday, and also a lifetime ago. For a long time that evening stayed in my head. The balmy California dusk, the palm trees outside your bedroom window and the sound of kids splashing in the complex pool, […]