My mom touched the hearts of everyone that ever met her. She could always brighten someone’s day and make them feel loved. My mom was best known for her cooking and entertaining. No one left her house with an empty stomach, or without getting a hug.

One of my fondest memories I have with my mom was standing side by side with her in the kitchen watching and helping her prepare for our family’s holiday dinners. She made everything with love. Especially her matzo balls and brisket!

The Lost Brother

Something is missing.
Search and search
And search again.
We were walking along.
Brother got lost. Just like that.
Sister noticed.
We kept walking.
Did we remember who he was?
(One of the drugged? The miscarried? The enslaved? The massacred?)
So we nearly stopped trying.

Reach and reach
And reach again.
But really, really
Settle.
Then reach again.

Slave to appetite, slave to reason
As contradictory as Jefferson
Bound by the original promise and the original lie
Increasingly clear-headed, increasingly deaf
We founder.

He was three once.
Bright-eyed, unexpected,
A face no one could imagine,
Utterly unique as a moment
Then he was older, older,
Silver-haired, forgotten.

Is the atmosphere doing this?
Solar flares, something in the water,
Or our own ingenuity
Fashioned into machines and information?

At the cave
Where no breath breathes
An old voice reigned.
The old man inside myself
Said, “I am here.”
Said, “No one is here and not your brother.”
Said, “The wind is nothing but the wind.”
The wind’s journeys never stop.

It would be good, good,
If he would find me.

Jeffrey Levy © Copyright, 2020

She loved Mondays
She snored abruptly
She burped loudly with fucks care
She was whiny
She was stubborn
She was annoying
She was a lot to handle at times
She had battle scars
She was she
She was my perfect imperfection

M+V

My brother, Wilmard, also known as Pete, was the oldest of five children. He was an amazing human being. He passed alone in a Bronx, New York hospital. No visits, no facetime, no phone call … nothing. He was 65.

He would have been vaccinated if given the chance, but that opportunity never came since he contracted COVID during the height of the pandemic in New York City. He took his last breath on April 15, 2020. On April 7th, we received his last text telling us he loved us, to love each other and to take care of his wife. That was the last time we had any communication with him.

But my brother was more than a COVID death. He was an amazing human being who gave from his heart. He always wanted to lend a helping hand, offer a word of advice, to pray for you and with you or just to listen to you. He never asked for anything in return. He loved his family, his island of Puerto Rico, the NY Yankees, singing, listening to music, playing the piano and taking tons of photographs and videos. He was always behind his camera.

One day, we went back to our old neighborhood in East Harlem (El Barrio) to attend a cultural event with music, food and games. There he was, taking photos of everyone and everything and, of course us, his family. At one point, a Salsa song came on and my brother, with his own camera in his hand, broke out into a dance. I couldn’t help but to turn the tables on him and take out my own phone camera to start recording him dancing.

He looked so happy. He looked so alive. He looked so proud. I will always remember that day. I wish that he was here so we could continue to hear him sing and play the piano. But I know he is singing with the angels up in heaven. My brother and sisters, his children, his grandchildren, his wife and all of his family and friends miss him so very much. He was our superstar and will always be our superstar.

Rest in peace, my brother. Like you said before you left us, “See you on the other side.”

Dad was in the ocean, half floating, half standing. Bobbing up and down as each wave came in, just enough to create a rocking sensation. The water’s spray had a salty taste to it and an occasional hint of fish on the breeze. The water foamed with small bubbles as it caressed the shore. Seashells and sand looking like a mosaic of pinks, tans and grays as the water receded each time.

Dad had his straw hat on to protect the top of his head from the heat of the August sun. Sunglasses shielded his eyes and made his face difficult to read. The only clue to what he was thinking was his smile, which gave away his mood. The water was cool in spots, then a warm current would roll through. Once in a while Dad’s toes would pierce the calm waters surface creating ripples in the waves as he regained his balance on the sand below.

Down the beach people were looking out into the ocean and pointing. Some were a little excited, others just watching curiously. There was a dark shadow slowly following the shoreline in the blue-green water. An occasional flip would rise above the water as the wave crested. I walked to the water’s edge. As I did, the shadow was between the shore and my Dad. He was now standing, the water up to his waist. The sun sparkled in the water drops dripping off of him. He was looking into the water with amazement and calm. He had a grin of understanding that he was experiencing something most people never would. Dad was standing in the middle of a school of sting rays. As they moved around, the rays would slip to the sides of him with the dark tips of their fins breaking the water’s surface as they changed direction and flew through the sea.

Dad stood there, taking in each second and enjoying just being part of that once in a lifetime moment. The rays continued on down the beach and Dad watched them as they disappeared around the point, just floating on the waves — his thoughts following them as they moved on.