Something changes in you when your brain breaks. A stroke. Even a mild one. If there is such a monster.
Inside, you see, feel, and hear the world as you remember it before February 25, 2026.
Speaking loudly. Performatively.
Image by antonio pedro ruiz
Your seventy-seven years of living in the Bronx, Washington, D.C., New England, and Southern California burst out of your mouth in a jumble of accents, phrases, and a mish-mash of energy.
It’s what happens after that date.
Outside your brain, in the real world, in the world you walk, see, feel, and hear, there's another dimension of reality.
Suddenly, someone flicked one switch off and another on. Where one moment, you were seeing everything clearly. Feeling the strength throughout your entire body. Hearing life's meaning clearly.
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Then, the words inside your mind just can’t escape your brain through your mouth, and you struggle to find the right letters and syllables.
And you turn to the people around you to fill the silence with your thoughts because you can’t locate them. Tell me what I’m thinking so I can say it. Help me find the words, the letters—I know what I want to say.
But, I’m too tired to look for them. Searching for the right word, the true meaning—damn, it’s right there on the tip of my tongue.
Image by antonio pedro ruiz
Five weeks since the stroke.
It has been four weeks since the operation.
An eternity away from that old life.
All I can see is today.
Searching for words.
The path to finding the words, the right ones I need. To move forward, since I know there’s no going back.
My life has been a rollercoaster of experiences, from The Bronx to Washington, D.C., to Hartford, Connecticut, and Los Angeles, California—first as a seminarian studying to become a priest, then as a local and national community organizer, a radio host and producer, a journalist and producer in both radio and television, a government bureaucrat, a youth mentor, and a small business consultant. Besides those roles, I’ve also tried my hand at being a jewelry vendor, a motorcycle courier, an airport shuttle driver, and a bartender in a German alpine-themed bar.
I am currently working on several writing projects, including a hybrid creative memoir about my time in Washington, D.C. This project serves as a personal and psychological exploration of addiction and trauma, offering an honest look at how someone can fall into a bottomless pit of despair, losing all judgment and moral clarity. Told through flashbacks, the memoir explores a complex theme: the physical and emotional experiences that shaped my struggles with addiction, ending with the scandal that would forever haunt me.
Your words have always been important …
And continue to be … and will always be … in the hearts of your beautiful family … that beautiful granddaughter … for all of us …
Margie Vigie Joey etcetera … all those that love you cherish you …and yes … me too …
This is a new chapter of your book …
You’re not alone…
When you don’t remember a word … there’s a network around you that will help fill in the blanks…loving you
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