All She Wrote

06/11/2013 | | Special To The Jewish Week | All She Wrote

I distinctly remember the pleasures of being 23, of jogging through the parks of Tokyo, where I then lived, the frogs croaking and cicadas humming in the evening’s darkness, my body and soul invigorated by the endless possibilities that lay around the next bend, wherever that might be.

05/07/2013 | | Special To The Jewish Week | All She Wrote

I’ve already kissed her good night, but my daughter Talia, who is 11, pulls closer and whispers, “I’m afraid of dying.”

“You dying?” I ask. It is a ritual we have been through before. “My dying? Daddy dying? Grandma and Grandpa dying?”

“Everyone,” she answers, as she has many times since she was 3 years old and spotted a strangely motionless fish washed up on a Long Island beach.

04/09/2013 | | Special To The Jewish Week | All She Wrote

In the tiny German village where she grew up, Rivka Weinstein was known as Cathrin. She played in the meadows and prayed in a church.

03/05/2013 | | Special To The Jewish Week | All She Wrote

Not so long ago, I felt my first stirrings of tallis envy.

02/13/2013 | | Special To The Jewish Week | All She Wrote

Perhaps it’s the madness of mid-life, or the doldrums of winter, or just plain bad luck, but I haven’t been enjoying 2013 so far. I’m sick of sickness. I’m worn out by worry. I’m besieged by bickering children. My patience has been worn to the thinnest of rags.

01/08/2013 | | Special To The Jewish Week | All She Wrote

I’ve seen this look before. It’s the way my husband responds to news that I’ve planned a trip involving the New Jersey Turnpike. But that’s not my plan this time.