Our Lives

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...

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