Look Back On My Life

My life lives forever
in my words.
Reincarnated on every page,
relievable any number of times.
Such a gift it is
to look back on my life…
relive those forgotten childhood days.
My life is eternal
captured in the pages
of my journal.
All my life’s’ pages
held together with a perfect binding
called time.

One Comment

  • Donna

    Hi Tom,

    I came across one of your blogs about your baby-hood and thought you’d like a comment I was also born and raised on Bank Street (a long time before you ! ’55) I remember Yeffe very well and your dad to a lesser extent but we did have some contact. I remember seeing them throwing parties. I had a brief chat about Stuyvesant High School on the steps with your dad (I was one of the first girls admitted there) because I happened to be chatting with Yeffe when he came home.

    So yes, I DO believe you about Charles Kuralt, I know about the ghost, and there are a whole lot of other astounding Bank Streeters. I’m working on a memoir that is a series of profiles of those neighbors and will be including my recalls of Yeffe. After she died, I dimly remember seeing a lovely woman (was your mother blonde?) with a baby but I was about my life by then; traveling and college and life, so I don’t claim to remember exactly when your family left. Do you remember Jack Heineman? He was a friend of mine (he passed away about 4 years ago, if you don’t know) as well as your parents.

    Anyway, hello from one Bank Street baby to another. You seem to be doing many diverse and creative things. I am too private for the web; you have much more chutzpah as well as more to tell the world, it seems. I would be glad to exchange memories with you but not over the web; being published and all that. Too much for me! However I see that this is how you have things and that is of course your right.

    If your father is still with us (my Bank Street dad is not) I wish him well. He would not remember me; we were a large noisy group of kids and we played between W 4th and Bleecker. He smiled at us and, if he was not preoccupied, always had a friendly look on his face.


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