My mother’s ‘passing’ has crippled my writing. And apparently that’s not all. It would be unfair to blame her, per se, because that would be rude. But I’ve had a sneaking suspicion that she’s had a hand in it. Some lesson left to teach. I thought what would be fitting (I had this brilliant idea […]
Tag: anthropology of consciousness
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on suicide
Just when I was feeling all kadished-out. Just when I thought I couldn’t write another thing about death, death and dying, loss, grief, the ones I love, terrible events … Just when I thought that the kaddish project — our kaddish in two-part harmony — had done its job a few months shy of a […]
your quizzical smile eyes cocked, waiting you say nothing, save ‘why?‘ and they pour out their secrets and you — you collect them and you do them justice but that’s just our business— that’s just our business your fingertips arranging their tales for the ages their children will read you they’ll wish they could find […]
Maybe I don’t have any right to miss her as I do. Maybe the missing is reserved for what people conventionally call ‘family.’ For kin related by blood or marriage. And I am neither. She is ‘family’ in that other sense. The sense of what we call family. My home was her home. Her home […]
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on not wanting a ‘conversation with god’
Last night, I had another tetragrammaton moment, where all the elements — the yud, the hei, the vav, and the hei — come together, alchemically bound and perfect in every way. Well, it wasn’t that. There were only three of us, and I was the only hei, but never mind that. It’s not what I […]
It’s not like either of us never went anywhere — though I thought she had me beat in this regard. Her fieldwork took her to what I thought of as the ends of the earth. although for her, it wasn’t really all that far — just inaccessible. My own favorite spot was in the deep […]