We left Buffalo not Hungary. Sorry for any confusion.
Like bookends, Grandma and Grandpa — those smiles — only one wears the apron and the music, classical and gypsy I was glowing in their eyes, growing only for one who kept her pride of me, when for the longest time, inferiority. Blessing of a Hungarian household we left just in time for the drama to build there was rifts, crashes and death and in one Poughkeepsie starter home no Christmas tree to be found in 1962 Did we feel the sudden sadness — my dad’s heart imploding — his dad’s book closed, forever...forever stretches out reality is a sudden blowout only now in his wrinkled years can he leak information from his tears 1/17/2021
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