I’m 37 today. Somehow it feels like now I’m undeniably a grownup. That sounds ridiculous, firstly because I have obviously been a grownup for many many moons now, and secondly … Continue reading 37.
Tag: survivor
Wild Geese.
A friend of mine recently shared this poem on her Facebook page, in the context of thinking about the High Holidays (Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, and the week in … Continue reading Wild Geese.
Aw, shucks.
Settle in and fasten your life vests, people, because I am about to take you on quite the oceanic adventure through my daughter’s brain. Here’s some background information: my daughter … Continue reading Aw, shucks.
If you knew…
If you knew that a horrible, life-altering event were going to occur tomorrow morning…what would you differently tonight? Would you hug your loved ones tighter? Read your kids one more … Continue reading If you knew…
Zionism is not a dirty word.
Antisemitism is at an all-time high, and social and news media outlets have done an excellent job of perpetuating the idea that the war in Gaza is everyone’s problem. In … Continue reading Zionism is not a dirty word.
I am an Existential Beach.
Every so often, a weather front will blow in and there will be a whiff of ocean in the air. A salty breeze, subtle, probably unnoticeable to most people, but … Continue reading I am an Existential Beach.
Differently bad.
My mother’s birthday was this past Wednesday. I had built up a fair amount of agitation about it ahead of time, anticipating that it would be a challenging day for … Continue reading Differently bad.
This whole “let them” thing.
I want to start off this post by saying that Mel Robbins seems like a lovely person who’s done great work for her own life and made a huge difference … Continue reading This whole “let them” thing.
Seven lies (and two truths) my father told me.
In a sense, the term “lies” seems a bit strong, as for the most part, what this list entails is pretty harmless. But sugarcoating any of it by calling them … Continue reading Seven lies (and two truths) my father told me.
An ode to the Fiona dress.
My daughter has grown out of all of her princess dresses. She’d grown out of them months ago, really, but I hadn’t gotten around to pulling them from her closet … Continue reading An ode to the Fiona dress.
Journeys in the Dark 