Dealing with Challenge
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Being afraid to go out the door or being afraid of falling was like walking through life alone.
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Why do I have to endure such pain and disability? For what reason had G‑d given me more time?
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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.
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“Bring your husband to the hospital,” the doctor said after I told him Adam was having trouble walking because his feet were numb.
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I have an eating disorder.The doctors call it anorexia nervosa, but I resent being put in a box with a nice little label.
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Two sisters who lost their mother had found support from a woman struck with the same disease.
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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.
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Maybe I turned down the wrong street. They all look alike.
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We discussed issues of intense bitterness, anger and guilt, but also forgiveness, responsibility and letting go.
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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.
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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?
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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.
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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.
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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.
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My 11-year-old cousin is gone, and everything is the same … or is it?
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There were lots of things I knew about Mr. Friedman, and many I didn’t. One fact I thought I understood was that he’s always been a man of ordinary means. So when I first heard about the Holocaust Torah, I thought I’d misunderstood.
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Thousands of people have committed to say extra prayers or do extra mitzvot in my husband’s honor. The world is changing for the better. There is so much goodness and beauty all around. If I can see it from my little corner, I cannot begin to imagine what it must look like to You.
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Perhaps it was nostalgia, or me trying to recapture whatever it was that I may have lost, but I started looking through some of my writing from years ago—words and experiences from a different place, and a time when bottomless sinks of dishes and baskets of laundry, utility bills and work e‑mails were not my primary concerns...
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