story you are about to read is true. The characters have been renamed and the locales changed, but the events and conversations
all took place. The correspondence has been edited for clarity and a few metaphors added to the dialogue, for color; all of
which makes this a work of “narrative nonfiction.”
But it is also a memoir, meaning that beyond the behavioral events
I’ve lived to tell about, my personal process – my thoughts, feelings and conflicts in the course of co-creating
and navigating those events – will be on full display; as will the processes of those whose lives have intertwined with
mine. For I have been, for 40 years, a married man.
Journaling about one’s conflicts can be cathartic, but publication raises broader
concerns. First, there is the hubris of assuming that my thoughts, feelings and interpersonal dramas are of the slightest
interest to anyone else. (Many an agent has assured me otherwise.) Should they turn out to be wrong, others might find the
public airing of such private things unseemly. And some depicted here will no doubt look back on their dealings with me as
anything but points of pride.
They may also point out that using my own real name defeats the prophylactic gesture of changing theirs. But after
much soul searching, I have concluded that the ideas I presume to posit here as a “psychospiritual perspective”
would forfeit all credibility as such were I myself, even at this late stage, to shy away from them.
As for those caught up within
the very spotlight of my self-disclosures, both my first wife and my current one have given me their blessing. Our parents
have passed, but our siblings and children have seen drafts and in some cases, provided useful feedback. I am especially grateful
to my sister in this regard for her encouragement and editorial assistance.
lishvurey lev umechabeysh l’atzvotam --
May our broken hearts be mended
all our wounds bound up.”