Our Lives

It’s a shame I didn’t take pictures of them. But I’ve got those pictures engraved in my head. And more importantly, my daughters do...

I obliterated the shadow of illness and defilement that had poisoned what I had held sacred. When I affixed the mezuzah to the doorpost of the den, I affirmed that what is created in this room, what is thought in this room, is free of lies and deception. Only truth is spoken here...

I want to show my readers, in the wrenching three-dimensional visions of words, how things could turn around...

What happened is that my soul, which has always been a Jew, woke up. But when it awoke it was empty, filled only with a yearning it didn’t understand . . .

I am excited. My rabbi said relax. “Return the world to its Owner.” How profound...

I don’t live a Torah life. Until about six months ago I didn’t even live a Jewish life.

I immediately knew what part of town I was in . . . A little backwoods, hillbilly kind of place aptly named Christmas, Florida. Yes, Christmas. From the highway it seemed like a cheery little town, with twinkling lights up year round, but in reality it was far from being a merry locale...

When they told me my whole life depended on those coins and bills, I refused to believe. After all, I could not eat or drink them even when hunger gnawed at my edges. They were slippery and thin and could not shelter me from the wind. They seemed even lonelier than me but never said a word to breach the distances...

Everything about it seemed so strange. I tried to deny the vision. I tried to re-work it in my head, pick a place closer to home, resign myself to simply staying put, but the feeling kept nagging at me...

They were jumping up and down with excitement. For them, a car is like a trip to Disneyland. I saw the car, but I didn't see the car. All I saw were the dents and the scratches. "This is the car?" I growled at him. My husband's face fell...

She asked me what happened. Why did we lose track of each other? I said in those days, with no email, she moved to Israel and I stayed behind. It was harder to work at staying in touch and just easier to let things drop and occasionally hear about her from mutual friends. Life moves on, the everyday routines take over, and slowly the relationship faded away...

Being a woman meant making my own choices. Well, here I am, making them. I attended the university of my choice. I studied the field of my choice. I eat the food of my choice in the apartment of my choice off of the dishes of my choice (paid for out of the wallet of my choice with the credit card of my choice). And yet, choices galore, as I sat staring at the red print before me, I still didn’t feel like a woman yet...

As we enter the classroom and take our seats, my heart beats a good bit faster. Anticipation is what they call it; lack of intestinal fortitude is my definition! Oh no! The teacher’s going to call on me next! What is she saying?

No matter who we may call a friend, true friendship is reserved for those select few who impact every aspect of our lives - yesterday, today, and tomorrow...

The last time I saw the photographer, about three hours later, I asked her something that I had been wanting to ask her since I had first witnessed her bleary-eyed at sunrise that morning. "Tell me something, are you enjoying this?"

I was horrified at the thought of an open gaping hole, and could not imagine how it was going to heal and not get infected. In fact I obsessed about it and it took me a good few days before I could even look at it...

The sound of her voice, her thick accent that got thicker when she was in trouble or trying to get out of it, is quickly fading. And all I could have left is the gramophone, the art work, the silk scarves...

My husband took the boys to the park; my daughter is watching the baby, who's sleeping on the patio—I am now free to do whatever I want for an hour or so! But am I?

Dad had gone through medical and spiritual hell and emerged to discover that some profound things had transpired during his anesthetized, comatose state. He had defied death and rebounded multiple times...

I had walked in feeling like a failure and left feeling like I had purpose. Purpose. Without that, one can not survive...

Eden's outrageous fright of doctors, doctors' offices, check-ups, medicine, band-aids, thermometers, blood, paper cuts and anything and everything else medical was so extreme that all of the doctors we took her to agreed that they had never seen a case as severe as hers...

My throat was scratchy, my head stuffy, all thanks to my co-worker who only uses sick days for when she feels great. I made a tea, grabbed a huge water bottle, the rest of the orange juice and tried to make it to my car...

My daughter is smart; she's going to go through first grade without any problems. High school will be a breeze; Harvard, here we come! She will be a lawyer, she will be a doctor, and she will be a famous artist in her spare time...

I was stuck without a babysitter on what was supposed to be my big day out. Stuck, for yet another mundane day of shoveling sweet potatoes and mashed bananas into the mouths of my screaming offspring...

People look at me and mourn the life I lead. But when I see myself, I do not see a victim. I see myself as strong, straight-backed and sure of step. I see my hair long and flowing. I hear the music which used to grace my fingertips...

Daddy, where are you from? I prod gently, a brilliant mind that is quickly fading, being eaten by a disease called Alzheimer's. An amazing physician my father was, cutting into newborn's hearts to save them...

Was she also here to remove some part of her reproductive organs? I very much hoped not. She was young and single. She hadn't yet found her partner with whom she wanted to share a life with...

I have decided that the kitchen is going to be closed today, the chef is off duty. No fancy dinners; it will be macaroni and cheese. Today I am going to enjoy my children...

Pound by pound, ounce by ounce we can lose the extra weight. Payment by payment and one less purchase added to one less purchase, we can pay back the credit card debt...

The cholent request was, at first glance, innocent padding at the end of the message, yet somehow it seemed hesitant and cautious...

Several years ago, as my mother was fading, she left me with the feeling that it was now my responsibility to keep in touch with "the cousins."

My knitting helped me through those long hours of waiting and watching. It was a lot better than snacking my way through his recovery. Today, he is, thank G‑d, healthy but I continue to knit...

They turn to me clueless and ask, "What did he say?" I translate. We're all speaking the same language, but only I can decipher what he is saying...

My tears mingle with his as he protests his entry into this world. I hold him tight and softly stroke his tiny body trying to infuse him with my love...

Yonatan made me miss the child I once was. I never got to say goodbye. Who dared to steal my youth and why did I not protest?

Daddy, where are the roadsigns on this journey? How far can I take you before memory dead-ends?

Helplessly safe in eddies below, I watch her charge toward swirls of foam and rock She’s going to hit, I think, and I can’t do anything but watch...

I gave birth about eight weeks ago and this is the first time since then that I've had the opportunity to sit down unencumbered and type my soul into this ever-patient and forgiving box of wires...

"What am I supposed to be doing with my days? I cannot go to shul. I cannot come to class. Shopping and other activities are difficult. OK, the hairdresser is a necessity." I surely was not going to spend them just thinking about all the things I would be able to do again, G-d willing, after the transplant.

Time was running out, but I thought I would give it another go. "Please, Sharon, you will feel better by adding some more light to your world..." Unfortunately, none of the arguments won her over...

A parent wants only good for their child and they want only good from their child. You become so engrossed in doing things for them, saving for them, working hard for them; and as you fantasize about the greatness that you want them to become, you begin to forget about yourself and the greatness that you need to work on becoming

From the moment that we stepped off the EL AL plane and took our first steps on Israeli soil, we felt that we arrived home to new beginnings...

I pulled out the big purple cookbook that my teacher had lovingly given me when I set out for married life. I was working full time until I got married, traveling the world at conferences. I didn’t know how to cook...

Just as the sun rises new each day, I am rising from exactly nine months of grieving and trying to stand in my own tent. These were my first High Holidays in thirty six years without my husband, Marcel z"l, with whom I shared a tent...

Sometimes I take my son out of his carriage so that he can walk along the sidewalk with me. He stops along the way, every couple of steps or so, picking up things, showing me leaves and fallen flowers. If he didn’t point them out to me, I probably wouldn’t even notice that they were there.

I will have to sit with her until L.A. The girl swears in Spanish. Janet politely asks her to move her belongings. She complies, throwing her belongings on the floor...

I found myself at a turning point, at the bottom of the mountain, and I felt that I needed to go up. At times it was slowly, slowly taking one step at a time; other times I felt like running and leapt many steps at once.

I opened the door slowly and in a beautiful Yiddish he asked me to spare some money for a poor bride in Israel. My first instinct was to tell him honestly that my husband was not at home and I did not have any cash on me to spare.

This summer I became a gardener. I never had a green thumb before – in fact I had never wanted to get my hands dirty or be anywhere near worms or creepy insects...

My uncharged cell phone flashing red at me, as if to say, “Feed me! Feed me!” And where is the charger, anyway? Why can’t I keep track of simple things like the phone charger? Who’s in charge here anyway?

When I became sick (diagnosed with chronic lymphocytic leukemia), I had a choice. I could cry and become depressed and spend a lot of time in bed, or I could live, really live . . .