A poem of my mother’s: I would pass quickly into nothingness. God does not need my dust to fertilize His flowers and I prefer not to feed His worms. I would lose my ashes as a summer day tossed with gentle breezes to some warm valley where they might stay harmlessly enough in trees or…
As soon as Labor Day is over, like many, I mourn the end of summer days and begrudgingly readjust my body and alarm clock to a new (and now that my eldest has started middle school) ungodly early wake up time for a fresh school year. For those who are of the Jewish faith tradition,…
From mother to daughter, sharing a lifetime of memories begins in sacred space.
Today was incredible. The forecast called for 60 degree temperatures – amazing for NY so close to Thanksgiving – and I had managed to get a full night’s sleep. I bounced from bed with the simple intention to get up and out early, head to the nearby farmer’s market and buy fresh cider and organic…
