Deja Vu

i282600889609157197._szw1280h1280_I keep having bouts of deja vu as I work at Cristo Rey Jesuit High School. The building is different from when I went to school there and yet it is not. The neighborhood is filled with people that I have never met and still it is so familiar. It is a strange feeling to return to the place where I once received the foundations of my education now that I am a teacher. 

As I walk through the hallways the speckled brown, white, orange, and black terrazzo floor gleams as though it had been laid down only yesterday. It still has the same smell of wax and paper and books that it had when I was a teenager navigating my way from class to class. The old lockers are gone, the windows are solid and sealed to accommodate the air conditioning and carpet softens the feel of the classrooms but otherwise little has changed. I can name almost every place where I once sat learning mathematics, science, English and languages. In my mind all of my classmates are still young and yet when I see their images on Facebook they appear to be more like their parents than the people that I knew in my teens. Continue reading “Deja Vu”

Love is the Word


I’ve written much about my mother. By now everyone who has read my stories should realize that while she led a very difficult life, she somehow managed to rise like the Phoenix again and again. She was a generally optimistic person who found good in all people and who needed very little to make her happy. It was only when her bipolar disorder raged through her system that she became a sad, frightened, and mean spirited person. I was generally able to separate the real mom from the one who periodically emerged as a result of the disease. I think that most of the people who knew and loved her were able to do so as well. All in all her generosity and thoughtfulness greatly outweighed any ugliness that came to the surface during her dark times. Continue reading “Love is the Word”