son
“Are you coming to the 9 o’clock service with us?” I asked my 22-year-old son. It was a Saturday night, a month or so after he had moved home after graduating from college.”Actually, I’m going to check out the Catholic church,” he replied.I paused. The fact that he wanted to…
As the first Christmas after my son William’s death approached, I couldn’t bear the thought of putting up a Christmas tree. I couldn’t imagine displaying all the nutcrackers we had collected together. I couldn’t walk into our usual family gathering pretending to be OK. I was petrified of being watched,…
The first Christmas I tried the Elf on the Shelf trend, my son was already 6. It was during the pandemic, and I thought it might cheer us both up. I had a friend who was doing it with her kids, and it seemed like a lot of fun.I didn’t…
This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with 75-year-old Laurence Gerowitz, a real estate litigator, about his move into a larger condo in New York City. This conversation has been edited for length and clarity.I lived on the Upper East Side for most of my adult life: about 48…
