Tag: Grief

For All the Mothers Kissing Their Children Goodbye

For All the Mothers Kissing Their Children Goodbye
This morning I kissed my children on their not-quite-clean-enough heads, buttoned them into their slightly-too-small raincoats, packed double checked that they had lunches packed in their beginning-to-fall-apart lunchboxes, and told them I loved them. I watched them run off into the rainy morning, to climb onto the school bus and go away from me for... Read more »

Next Year is its own Resolution

Next Year is its own Resolution
There is a desperation that comes at the end of the year. All the things not yet accomplished, all the things to begin fresh with the new year. Lists of goals and resolutions and the abortive calculus of “better than” versus “working on” multiplied by “Things That Have Changed.” After Thanksgiving, it’s all a matter of... Read more »

Yinzer's Kaddish

Yinzer's Kaddish
I was born in Pittsburgh. My father was a graduate student at Carnegie Mellon, and my family was Jewish. We lived on Shadyside, in Squirrel Hill. We lived about a mile away from Tree of Life, and we attended a different Conservative congregation- one slightly closer to home. No doubt I found myself in the... Read more »
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Hot Dogs, Birthdays, and Life's Big Questions

Hot Dogs, Birthdays, and Life's Big Questions
Yesterday was my husband’s thirty-sixth birthday. He has lived a third of his life knowing he has brain cancer. At some point in all of our lives, we have an existential crisis. A moment where we wake up in the morning and say to ourselves, “I’m going to die. One day, I’m going to be... Read more »

Tahlequah's Dirge

Tahlequah's Dirge
A poem:   Tahlequah’s Dirge For sixteen days a mother orca has carried the corpse of her calf across the sea. We the human watch in awe, in horror, at the progression of her mourning, performing nonverbal aquatic adaptations of emotion we only channel through “It’s Quiet Uptown” and we witness, we the simple, the... Read more »

In Memorium

In Memorium
Today we are burying my husband’s grandmother. There are many kind things I could say about her, that she was brilliant and sweet and kind, but mostly when I think of her, I think of a conversation I once had with my mother-in-law. I don’t know what prompted me, but I was compelled to tell her... Read more »
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Using Privilege To Bend the Moral Arc of the Universe Towards Justice

Using Privilege To Bend the Moral Arc of the Universe Towards Justice
On Sunday, I left my children behind. It felt like an absurdly privileged thing to do, to willfully drive away from my children, cross hundreds of miles, knowing I could call them at any time. That I could skype with them each evening before they went to bed. Knowing they were with family, that they were... Read more »

There Is No Such Thing as "Other People's Children"

There Is No Such Thing as "Other People's Children"
You may have noticed I didn’t post last week. The truth is, I couldn’t. I was too wounded, completely crushed by grief. “Grief” might sound like a strong word for what I was going through, for what so many Americans were going through, but I assure you it was real, and tangible, and agonizing. When... Read more »

Names and Nightmares

Names and Nightmares
PTSD is a funny animal. And by “funny” I mean “not funny at all, fuck you PTSD.” Last week I posted about the reluctance of people in the lives of rape survivors to find out how closely they might be connected to an assailant. As you might expect, a few friends reached out to me... Read more »
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Saying No to a High School Reunion, or, What To Do when your Friends are Friends with your Rapist

Saying No to a High School Reunion, or, What To Do when your Friends are Friends with your Rapist
This weekend, Mike and I enjoyed an anniversary getaway to Mackinac Island, sans-kids. It would have been wonderful no matter what, but it had the added bonus of giving me a wonderful excuse not to go to my high school reunion. I only attended high school for about fifteen months. Around that time I was raped by... Read more »