Tag Archives: Loss

September 11

Yesterday I attended a birthday party for the about-to-be-11-years-old daughter of some friends. Arriving at the party, I was reminded of a similar one for my own sons years ago. We had the party at the same riverside park, where … Continue reading

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The Unveiling

“Do you need to go?” my younger sister asks as we hug hello in front of the cemetery’s office. “The bathroom’s around the side of the building.” We are gathering for my father’s unveiling, the traditional Jewish ceremony within a … Continue reading

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Sarah

“The worst thing that could happen has happened,” my sister, Sarah, tells me. “I died. I’m dead” “But if you’re dead,” I ask her, “how can you be talking to me?” “I’m in another place. You wouldn’t understand,” she says. … Continue reading

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The Day the Lions Stopped Roaring

The news of the bombings in Brussels brought me back to a morning in 1992. I was driving to work and listening to the news. A reporter in Bosnia was giving an update on the siege of Sarajevo. The confusing … Continue reading

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Bluebirds, Bluebells, and Love

  I met Stephen two days after his wife and their unborn child had died. Jennifer, who would have become my sister-in-law, was killed by a careless driver. Having barely met my boyfriend’s family, I arrived to share their worst … Continue reading

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The One That Got Away

Blanco is the chicken that started the latest cycle, the cycle that begins with joy and inevitably leads to resigned sadness. The length of each cycle is highly variable, but each ends by snake, hawk, or quadruped. Blanco arrived still … Continue reading

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Moth Genitalia II.

I had a friend, Adrienne, who seemed as delicate as the butterflies she studied. Some beings keep their secrets well hidden. Adrienne and I both studied leps—Lepidoptera—she, butterflies, and I, moths. Through the microscope we examined wings, heads, legs, and … Continue reading

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Chicken Love

“Those are some plump-looking hens you have out here for this country,” commented a new visitor to our home. “Lots of table scraps from the kids,” my husband responded, opening the screen door. “We’ve already lost some,” my voice trailed … Continue reading

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