Diploma in hand, husband at my side, cape on my back, I was ready to conquer the world
There was no one to tell. No one who’d appreciate it like she would have
Her diagnosis was a blow. And 18 years later, she’s still a child I stand at the doorway watching Chaviva. She’s off to the side, singing to her own beat. She then gravitates toward the windows, where she can see the room’s bright colors, and the tables and chairs, reflected in the window pane.
“My shtreimel box will go in the suitcase, right?” my husband innocently asked
The best part of shul was walking home hand in hand with my father
Babi was out. Grandma was also out. Bubby for sure was out. Bubby was the stuff of tales from the alte heim