Dealing with Challenge

My childhood ended when I was 10 years old. I left for overnight camp an innocent girl; two weeks later, I was called to the head counselor’s shack and told that I had to go home.

I decided to push forward and explain that I would be delighted to teach, but cannot do so on the two Saturdays in question because I am Jewish and observe the Sabbath.

We got the diagnosis on February 23, 2017, at 9 p.m. A new anniversary: before and after knowing your husband has cancer.

Being afraid to go out the door or being afraid of falling was like walking through life alone.

Why do I have to endure such pain and disability? For what reason had G‑d given me more time?

For a moment, I stood in frozen disbelief—and then started running with all my might. A voice inside said not to look back—to keep running. I never moved so fast, yet it felt like slow motion.

“Bring your husband to the hospital,” the doctor said after I told him Adam was having trouble walking because his feet were numb.

I have an eating disorder.The doctors call it anorexia nervosa, but I resent being put in a box with a nice little label.

Two sisters who lost their mother had found support from a woman struck with the same disease.

It was the most uncomfortable Shabbat I have ever experienced. What was meant to be a quick visit to the emergency room turned into a hospital admission over Shabbat, with no advance warning.

Maybe I turned down the wrong street. They all look alike.

We discussed issues of intense bitterness, anger and guilt, but also forgiveness, responsibility and letting go.

Esther Malka was born with a rare bone disease. When she was mainstreamed in first grade, her wheelchair no longer seemed like a throne; it began to irritate her.

It was devastating to watch as the cruelty of the mental illness began to steal his independence and the identity that he had established for himself. What was it that G‑d expected from me as we became engulfed by the darkness that seemed to control our lives?

I once brought a friend over for a Shabbat meal at Bubby’s house. Had I realized my friend was a picky eater, I might have chosen to bring along a different guest, or at least warn my friend of my Bubby’s background. But I realized my mistake too late.

I remember 13 years ago. An icy rain like death called to me from the west. I looked out the window in the darkness and shivered.

Although Jessica was clear about the direction she was headed, behind the scenes G‑d was preparing a detour with a totally different destination in mind.