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Now, with a home of my own, including recipe books and a husband who makes fun of my old-fashioned cravings, I understand

Photos: Menachem Kalish I

I’ve tended to Tante Masha the way a daughter would have; the plants are witness. And yet, I can’t pretend this hodge-podge of feelings is grief

I resisted. I was haunted by the world that was. A world that had burnt, frozen, starved to death, or fled to distant shores

The ambulance revved up. “We’re trying your husband constantly,” a kind EMT reassured me. “And we’ve got an emergency team waiting at the hospital”

I’m in survival mode, using every ounce of energy to keep my house running, have supper on the table and clean clothes in the drawers