The (Hand)written Word

I have vivid memories of sitting at the dining room table of my parents' house, note cards and address book spread before me, squirming and complaining to my mother, "I don't know what to write!" The scene unfolded annually in the week following Christmas and my birthday, which are lumped together in a way that …

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Ugly

I'm pleased to share an essay, Ugly, that is currently in the in-House (an online magazine for medical residents and fellows) Social Medicine theme issue. I wrote it way back in med school and have by turns mulled it over, completely restructured it, and ignored it for various periods of time over the past eight years. …

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Talking About Death on the Sidewalk on a Saturday

I didn't expect to love running into people so much. When we moved into our house (from a condo and multiple apartments before that), I vaguely noted that, for the the first time, we would have actual neighbors. Sure, we had had upstairs and downstairs and across-the-hall neighbors for years, and depending on the setting …

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