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Devilment in The North End

I was barely seventeen. Somehow I envisioned the world as pristine outside of the turmoil of my childhood. My trust was implicit. I had met a few undesirables but had maintained this view of the world. For four years, I had escaped the brutality of my home through drugs. I woke one morning—kidneys screaming—a wisp of myself—ribs... Continue Reading →

The Wild Ride

A Touch of the Past

'This Side of Life'

The Wild Ride

It’s been a while. Stories have swirled through my head but never made it to the keyboard. It’s as if the virgin territory of my new study forebodes me. It’s time to break this cherry.

Light a cigarette, Joyce, and get going.

I was nineteen, and I was in love—not with a man, but with a voice. Lou Rawls owned it. It was his, but I embraced it.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XCW1i5HQ0o0.

Play him as I write.

When he came to Boston, I took every chance I could to listen to him. It was in a dark, dusty little joint in the underbelly of a building on Boylston Street. It was small and cozy. Probably not the venue for which he was hoping.

I had been able to get there for a few nights, but funds were running tight.

Wait—the music stopped:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RzlNHnnEAA4&list=PL6law6Uk-M4GfDoYLk_pL3wzAAhuyWo1U

Ahhhh—back to the story.

There was only one way I’d…

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The Depot Diner

  Welcome wafts through the air.  It rides on the delicious aromas of the fare offered by the Depot Diner (located at 23 Enon St. Beverly, MA 01915 978-922-6200). The food is unique in its presentation and plentifulness.  Breakfast is comforting here.  Early morning dwells in quietude, whereas dinnertime offers a celebratory atmosphere. I set... Continue Reading →

Mental Health Awareness?

A little thought given to this.

'This Side of Life'

flatnosebeg

This is Mental Health awareness month.  I’m here to tell you a bit of my story.  My story is one of many.  Children die every day from the likes of what I suffered, and if they survive?  Well, they turn out like me.  My difficulties are not biological or of character flaws.  My neurophysiology is the result of inadvertent training.  I learned to survive from the moment I was born.  Every second was a question of do I step this way or that?  Do I run or stand pat? Can I breathe or should I hold my breath?

The rage on my mother’s face always twisted my torment with fear.  By an early age, I had learned to temper my fear by dissociating.  I floated my mind away from my body’s associations and drowned my fear with oblivion.  But I had to squeak out a bit to assure my mother…

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Mental Health Awareness?

  This is Mental Health awareness month.  I’m here to tell you a bit of my story.  My story is one of many.  Children die every day from the likes of what I suffered, and if they survive?  Well, they turn out like me.  My difficulties are not biological or of character flaws.  My neurophysiology... Continue Reading →

The Wild Ride

It’s been a while. Stories have swirled through my head but never made it to the keyboard. It’s as if the virgin territory of my new study forebodes me. It’s time to break this cherry. Light a cigarette, Joyce, and get going. I was nineteen, and I was in love—not with a man, but with... Continue Reading →

Finz

  The month is quiet. People are going outside to enjoy the sun. It’s time for a departure to the real world for me, and I chose to do so with a fine meal at a local establishment. Finz is located on the waterfront. Its outer lines are as crisp as its food. But what... Continue Reading →

Needham 7, Some other place in Cambridge, MA, and Thank the Lord for 2018

'This Side of Life'

Needham 7, Some other place in Cambridge, MA, and Thank the Lord for 2018

I warn you, if you’re aging out and have a fall, it might not be the fall that kills you; it could be the care you receive. Should I call it care?
Just don’t fall.

It all Started here in The Saga of Cracks: https://joycebowen.wordpress.com/2017/11/17/1151/#more-1151

I just made it home on Friday after a stint regarding the repair of my knee. My knee was too bad to do stairs, and I barely had access to food. My Primary Care’s office convinced me to go to Mt. Auburn’s ER. I expressed the thought that I was nearly through with medicine. But I went. I spent about 24 hours in the ER and was finally admitted on the dreaded Observational status. A very kind and dedicated social worker cajoled me into trying this course of action in order to get into a rehabilitation facility.

The staff in Needham 7 were kind and compassionate. The menu rivaled that of a restaurant. The food was so good, I had a…

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