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Is it even meant to return to normal — or is this supposed to be leading us somewhere else?

Then came the phone call. “Rivkie, it’s Chana. I cannot believe what I just heard”

When I remember the special moments of my youth, I panic. What memories will my children have?

I look at the pictures. At the widow’s smile. Did I smile like that today, yesterday?

We rolled it off our tongues: “Twenty-twenty.” Distant and foreign sounding and a million miles away

To my surprise, besides all the kids’ envelopes, I found an envelope marked “Abba and Ima”