by Shelly Reuben on March 12th

My sister Selma tells a wonderful story about the profound, lengthy and beautifully philosophical letters that our father sent her ..

by Shelly Reuben on March 5th

When I was at the University of Missouri for an ill-fated attempt at finishing college, I bought a Honda 50 ..

by Shelly Reuben on February 26th

When I lived in New York City, I was so eager to get letters from home that I tore open ..

by Shelly Reuben on February 19th

Other children, I am told, are brought up listening to stories about Cats in Hats or animals named Piglet and ..

by Shelly Reuben on February 5th

I rushed downstairs. On the kitchen counter, I saw: • A cutting-board • A rolling pin • Melted butter • Flour. ..

by Shelly Reuben on January 29th

Two or three times a year, at no particular day, month or season, my father would get an irresistible urge ..

by Shelly Reuben on January 22nd

The ways in which my father would spontaneously arrange words into oddly juxtapositioned concepts and sentences was a talent of ..

by Shelly Reuben on January 15th

For Samuel Reuben, words were like pebbles in a colorful and carefully assembled rock collection, with an occasional semi-precious stone ..

by Shelly Reuben on January 8th

My father, Samuel Reuben, was part of the War Effort during World War II. His Blinker Training Machine helped ..

by Shelly Reuben on January 2nd

There was a narrow closet in my parents’ bedroom in the big house in Glencoe; in that closet were stacks ..