Blog

Going Back

The following story was written by Liz Lippa and shared as part of the Memory Project. I am perched on the verge of a pilgrimage back to my roots. These roots do not go as deep as those of my birth, But Uruguay is, nevertheless, the earth from which these seedlings...

Healing in the Open

The following story was written by Liz Lippa and shared as part of the Memory Project. In a bizarrely freak accident in a car wash, my car ran over my left leg and stopped on top of my knee. The car was rolled off my leg, and I was taken to a trauma center for...

Just One More Day

The following story was written by Liz Lippa and shared as part of the Memory Project. If I could have just one more day with someone who is no longer alive, I would choose my mother. I was only thirty-five years old when she died. She did get to see my six wonderful...

Learning to Adjust

The following story was written by Liz Lippa and shared as part of the Memory Project. What I have learned in my life and how I have learned it are directly related to my self-concept. One essential facet of my self-concept is my association with the significant...

Mother-tongue

The following story was written by Liz Lippa and shared as part of the Memory Project. The language I use now is not my Mother-tongue. It is not the language I heard while lying in my Mother’s womb. It is not the language I learned to understand in the first year and...

My Dad

The following story was written by Liz Lippa and shared as part of the Memory Project. My dad had a great sense of humor, But he was not a happy man. My dad could deliver a joke perfectly, But it took a lot to make him laugh. My dad was intelligent and curious, But he...

People Make the Difference

The following story was written by Liz Lippa and shared as part of the Memory Project. The past is always elusive. Shakespeare said, “Thus memory doth make liars of us all.” I wanted my own reality check on my own past, a past that was over sixty years old. My four...

The Banyan Tree

The following story was written by Liz Lippa and shared as part of the Memory Project. I was born in Vienna, Austria, and I have always missed my family. Growing up in South America, I did have my parents with me, and I had a brother, an aunt and uncle, and a cousin,...

Third Grade in America

The following story was written by Liz Lippa and shared as part of the Memory Project. My first American school experience was with a teacher who would definitely have been diagnosed as mentally ill today.  I was dumped into a third grade class the month after I...

First Love

The following story was written by Judita Hruza and shared as part of the Memory Project.  Falling in love for the first time is an important milestone in nearly everybody's life.  My milestone came at a highly unexpected time.  It was the first year of WWII, the...

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