When I was younger, Mother’s Day and my birthday always blurred together with their being a few days apart. For my Bat Mitzvah, our Rabbi instructed me to write my haftorah speech about how my mother had impacted my life at that early age, and to pay reverence to all mothers. In retrospect, it was fitting, as my mother played…
Tag: Mom
Brooklyn Girls
(originally appeared in Huffington Post)First, it was me and my mom. We were the original Brooklyn girls. From my earliest days, my mom was my partner when it came to navigating Brooklyn and its eccentricities. She had a no-nonsense and straightforward disposition that taught me that if you didn’t speak-up for yourself, then you risked living your life on someone…
Legacy
For the past five years, I have visited my mother’s grave weekly. Each time I stare at her name on the headstone, I journey somewhere inside that I don’t always frequent amidst my frenzied daily routine. I pause. I reflect. I think about the night before she passed away. Her faraway gaze. Her tone, which was both matter-of-fact and soft.…
Love Story – May/June 2006
A petite, Asian woman in a hospital gown draped with a starch white robe plays Love Story on the baby grand piano adjacent to the hospital’s automatic doors. A group of people—patients, their loved ones—recline in the sage green couches surrounding the baby grand; all eyes are on the pianist. She scrolls the keys as if she’s reading Braille, her…