I’ve always felt insecure about being a graduate of NYC’s legendary Stuyvesant High School. Never went to reunions because I was such a pimple-y slacker. Well, I finally put the bad self-image to rest by visiting Stuy and exorcising some ghosts.
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Now that my mom is dead, I’m an orphan. It feels weird, sad, exhilarating — free. Suddenly, I’m starting live over, redefining my sense of womanhood, ethnicity and culture.
This post is all about how my mom died. It was profoundly moving, sad, peaceful, loving. Death has it’s own magic. What a healing experience.
My mom has been moved to hospice and the experience is emotionally wrenching. But we’re getting through it with the help of music therapy and my MacBook laptop.
A former student, who is originally from Korea, shows me how to eat Korean food. We hit that special Manhattan neighborhood in the W. 30s which is filled with Korean restaurants. Lots of culture here!
Went to my first Diwali party, in celebration of the Hindu festival of lights. Lots of fun. Sree Sreenivasan and his wife Roopa make great hosts.