Tales of Resilience

  The news of Mr. Reisman’s passing came out of nowhere. One moment, everything was ordinary—and the next, I found myself completely still, caught off guard by the weight of it. One of my favorite teachers was gone. Almost without thinking, my mind drifted back to 1987. I could see it clearly—the classroom, the desks, the familiar rhythm of senior year at East Leyden High School. Drawn by that feeling, I went to my old photo album, certain there were pictures from his class tucked somewhere inside. I flipped through the pages, and there they were—snapshots of a time I hadn’t visited in years. At first, I thought I would simply share them as a tribute. But as I lingered over each photo, something shifted. Faces, moments, laughter—memories I didn’t even realize I still carried began to surface, one after another. It was more than nostalgia. It was a reminder of how much that time, that class, and that teacher had meant. And so I decided to do more than post a few pictures. I decided ...

  Shopping for music, movies and books always calmed him down.  He just loved being around the art; being in his own little world.  There was magic all over the place.  There was so much knowledge staring back at him.  It was a treasure trove with so much waiting to be discovered.  But as he enjoyed being around such a wonderful place his mind was going back to her.  As he thought about her, he envisioned her in his arms, felt her skin, he tried to remember her smell.  He smiled to himself, and continued to shop, looking at the displays in front of him.  Each little area was filled with something special.  It was overwhelming at times.  Despite all of this, his mind was somewhere else.  It was pre-occupied by her.  Why?  Was it because he was in the area where they used to meet?  Was it because she lived nearby?  Whatever it was, it was running circles around him.  His consciousness told him, “ It’s imp...