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Different beds, different foods, different customs. I navigated strange waters with my family as the compass

I hold the freezer door closed while I hold my breath. It stays closed

She’s almost 90, her mind fickle as the wind, but oh, she wants to learn

I got into my car and started to sob. So much more than a glass had been shattered the night I stood under the chuppah

A hammer, nails, and wood — it must be the magic recipe for silence because it’s blissfully quiet now

I am scared, so scared, to enter that place of pain. The place that all year, I work to scrape off of myself