My wrestling was over...
The evening of May 25, 2017 I was studying the photos posted on my January blog, “Bronx Connections.” My mother, sister, and I are displaying our Easter finest in one of the pics taken on Park Avenue by the railroad tracks that ran alongside our apartment building. The railroad tracks were exposed but below street level. We did not live on “the” Park Avenue in Manhattan. Godiva Chocolatier, the Ferrari store, and LePain Quotidien (Belgian cuisine), among other noted establishments, lined Manhattan’s Park Avenue. Our “Park Avenue” in the Bronx was crowded with apartments in varying conditions, Rite-Aid, and a Salvation Army Thrift Store. But, it was “our” Park Avenue and the memories are lovely. When I was fixated on the blog photos, my mother’s health was failing. She began declining rapidly on May 24th. On Thursday, 5/25, my mother was comatose. My sister assured me that she didn’t need me to travel back East. I've always needed to be sensitive toward my sister’s d