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Category: Life & Love

I have finally stopped apologizing for my brilliance

Posted in Life & Love

From poet Mary Ruefle’s essay “Pause”:

Hot flashes are the least of menopause. You will want to drive a knife through your heart; you will want to leave your lover, no matter how much you have loved them. You will feel as though your life is over, because it is. You will realize for the first time that your whole life people have looked at you because you are a woman and people look at women – but now, suddenly, you are invisible. But then something magical happens:

If you put a dog in an MRI

Posted in Life & Love, and Relationships

Pets don’t come with instruction manuals but owners don’t need one to decode their furry friends’ emotions. As I tiptoe down the stairs at 6 in the morning and I nestle on the sofa between my dogs, I know that Ottie’s tongue showering my face is a sign of affection and Portia’s head in my lap signifies comfort and trust.

How to write a condolence note

Posted in Life & Love

I am known to have a potty mouth  that I am not particularly proud of and, sometimes, in social settings, I can utter the most inappropriate pronouncements – although, with age, I have tamed somewhat the relationship between my brain and my mouth. But, in a strange dichotomy, I can be a stickler for etiquette.

Jolting our memory into poetic action

Posted in Life & Love

For the last 15 years, on and off, I have stuck to a habit that gives me immense pleasure. In a pedagogic effort not to be pedantic and, at the same time, introduce poetry in the lives of my step-children, I took to tacking a poem to the fridge every week or so. This habit went to join the long list of “weird things our step-mother does” but, children long gone, it makes me happy to this day.

How far would you go for what you believe in?

Posted in Life & Love

It’s been a bizarre week. On Wednesday, I sat in a hushed room listening to an 82-year-old Holocaust survivor talk about her experience for 90 minutes straight: her move into the Lvov ghetto when she was five; hiding in a basement for two weeks; her father securing fake Aryan papers for her and her mother; the flight to the countryside, then to Sweden once the Soviets invaded; her eventual passage to the United States and all the harrowing details in between.

The magic of words

Posted in Life & Love

I am not a great writer. Not a particularly good one either but I do have a firm belief – even utter reverence – for words. Whenever I come across a beautiful sentence, a string of words arranged in an unusual or striking manner, I can bask in it at length, reading and re-reading it, going back to it, letting it swirl in my head. Sometimes  I can be more attached to individual sentences than to a whole body of work.

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