words from the soul
This isn't going to be pretty. Buckle up. Take a breath. We're going into the thick of it. You don't want to read this. The heat is punishing us. Thick and heavy, it weighs down on our already broken necks, pulling sweat from our pores to mix with our tears. Last night, when the rabbi … Continue reading Anchor
I am 15 and a half years old. My mother is sitting shiva for her father. I am leaving home and it feels like something is tearing. I don't know that I will no longer have a home, that they will move to a new house while I am hiding in the attic at my … Continue reading Ready or Not, We Move On
I am walking around the cul-de-sac, restless, hot, and numb. They are all inside the house where she grew up, the house that was never my home, and they are mourning in various groups of togetherness. My mother holds court, repeating stories over and over as her scratchy throat resists, and her voice fades to … Continue reading Shiva
When you leave Orthodoxy, you leave everything behind. If you are lucky, you can find a way to anchor yourself to love. But mostly, you are tethered in place by the family that wants to accept you but believes that you cannot be accepted. I cannot imagine the anguish of a parent who can not … Continue reading When it hurts to live: leaving Orthodoxy
She calls me, breathless. "It was amazing," she panted. "I loved it. I was made for this, Ima. I need it." Patched up by the threads trailing behind her gathering into a seam sewn with every fall and knotted with each triumphant rise, my lungs fill. My hands slow their spasms. My head sweeps the … Continue reading The Place Where I Belong
Colloquially Speaking 