I dreamt of you, Mama. You were of sound mind. You did not have dementia. You said, “I think it is time for me to go to the other side.” “Oh?” I respond. “Yes, my soul is too heavy for this life.” I ask, “Your soul is too heavy for this life, or your body… Continue reading The Obituary; A Dream
Talent is something foreign to me, like a distant tree on a land not my own. It is beautiful, it sways, it beckons. I see that others climb up and down its branches with ease, while I stand frozen and lose myself in the mundane. Yet like the moon that seems to follow you as… Continue reading Talent
Death, you thief from the other side, Your heavy curtain falls Over this wretched relentless divide. Austere undertaker from whom we cannot hide – The limbs now stiff Their weight terrific – Are you friend or enemy, At once terrible and swift A respite from agony And a burden without respite. The grave is for… Continue reading Death the Great Deceiver
Outgrow me, my love. Expand yourself beyond my horizon – Take in more, be more see more of the world and of yourself than I ever could. Outgrow me, my lovely daughter. Stretch your mind further than mine could travel. Do more try more hope more than I ever could. Outgrow me to grow into… Continue reading Outgrow Me
Good Shabbos. Have you ever had the experience of sitting down to take a final exam and the professor has given you a choice to write about one of the two topics you know like the back of your hand? And, as you write that essay, fingers flying across the page, you can’t help but… Continue reading Mutti’s 90th birthday kiddush
I am 3 or 4 years old. My arch enemy sits in front of me. I have mustered all my strength to fight, not to give in. I am steel. I am solid, implacable will. To outsiders, I am an unrepentant, unapologetic, uncooperative child. To me, the insider, I am a person holding on to… Continue reading Chapter Two – The Battle
It is difficult for me, as I reflect on my journey, to tease apart the ramifications that my parents’ divorce had on me versus the wartime experiences of my mother. The trauma of living though Nazi Germany, adjusting alone to life in America, and eventually marrying a Methodist raised Harvard scholar, was all wrapped… Continue reading The Glove, continued
I am very happy to receive a lovely review from Michal Malen at the Jewish Book Council. http://www.jewishbookcouncil.org/book/how-the-moon-became-dim
It was a terrific day on Sunday, May 7, at Afikomen Judaica. We had lovely sun, moon, and star cookies, lots of children, and adult guests to celebrate the release of How the Moon Became Dim. Thank you, Nell and Chaim Mahgel-Friedman for hosting, and to all my friends and family for your support.
A black leather glove in my peripheral vision triggered terror in me. A panic rose in my body as the ominous, sinister gloved hand moved towards me. These descriptive words came much later. At that moment, it was only a scream and a sob, followed by another scream, another sob. Within seconds, my mother’s voice… Continue reading The Glove
Ruth Wiseman 