Life is Your Story

It’s getting dark. I’m heading home. You won’t be there. I’ll eat alone. I’ll wonder how I ended up Where I’ve ended up. I’ll put on the TV but I won’t watch. I’ll open up a book but I won’t read. I’ll get into bed but I won’t sleep. I’ll stare at the walls. The shadows staring back at me. I’ll close my eyes. I’ll hear your voice. I’ll see your face. Your lips will move. I’ll ask the question That everyone asks But you won’t answer You’ll walk away Into the white Into nothing I won’t get to tell you What I should have told you... You are the rhythm As I breathe in As I breathe out You are the reason I am here In the black Bumping into everything I love you I feel you somewhere Everywhere Nowhere And as you continue to fade As you move further away As every memory of you Comes crashing down I will open my eyes I will bite my lip

Dogs are incredible souls. They are gifts. We don’t have them for long but while we do have them they bless and enrich our lives. They love us from the time we bring them home until the light leaves their eyes and we become so accustomed to having them around that without them our lives become silent and empty.                                                         Buster (2007-2010) F*ck Cancer Dogs don’t care if you are fat or skinny, old or young, having a really bad hair day or if you are rich or poor. They just love you. They miss you the second you leave the house and they are there to greet you the second you open the door. They think that the greatest thing in the whole wide world (aside from rawhide) is spending time with you. They are funny not knowing they are funny and not meaning to be funny. They each have their own unique personalities and traits. Some like to eat your socks, others your sho

There are dark cold days when nothing falls into place and my heart drops and my mind spins. I can’t grasp onto anything or anyone. There is no exit from the heavy sorrow that fills and overflows seeping through my pores. There are slices of light and seconds of sun that lift me and push me upward and allow me to breathe fuller and escape what seems to be the unrelenting noise of my thoughts. And between these states of dark and light, between the flow of the ocean and the moon rising, I reach out and search for those I’ve lost, those I’ve loved, those I will never touch, see, hug, hold again in this life. I can’t find them because I don’t know where they are only that they are somewhere around me with me watching over me moving forward with me and forever connected to me.   When I close my eyes I see them and sometimes in my dreams I hear them. They are telling me they are okay and they will be there for me, they wait for me, their arms will

Mothers face enormous challenges. They bring life into the world and if they are as loving as mine; they continue to breathe life into their child’s entire being even if it means there is little left for themselves. For as long as I can remember, my mother has never walked ahead or behind me; rather always beside me. Sometimes when you are a kid, you remain clueless as to how much your mother sacrifices for you. I was never one of those kids. I witnessed the ravages that Multiple Sclerosis placed upon my maternal Grandmother and as a child I stood by and watched my mother care for her selflessly, carefully and compassionately. The fact that she managed to do that at the same time as caring for our family and holding down a full time job, returning to school for several degrees; is something that leaves me in awe until this day. And now she rises again after another terrible fall – the loss of her husband. She carries on and cares for us and he

We all have one. It’s someone you loved (whether or not they loved you back), still love and think of often. You carry them around with you everywhere and all throughout your life. You wonder if you will run into them at some obscure time for one intense moment and if you did, you wonder what you would say. You remember their face so clearly that you can see it whenever you search the back of your mind. Your life goes on and you share it with another and all of its complexities keep you busy and running but on a dark night while driving home or on a sleepy Sunday while hanging out on the couch; the memory of them seeps out from your pores and it brings all of the regrets, frustration, pain and happiness back in one mighty swoop. Sometimes you consider looking them up – finding them – calling them and seeing if you can be friends. You imagine yourself showing up on their doorstep and everything being okay and embracing in a warm hug. Other times you hope

My mother has always said that the sweetest time in her life was when we were little and she held us in her arms. We would rap our hands around her neck and stare up into her eyes and watch her lips as she spoke and it was the purest form of love and affection one could find in this life. But what happens when children grow up, move out and starts lives of their own? What happens when they end up living in another city or country? Well, they have no choice but to learn to have less of us. They suffer inside because they are not able to witness all of the magical moments in our lives on a daily basis. Their Grandchildren come into the world and although they may be there for the day they are born and the celebrations thereafter, sooner or later they have to return home. The distance feels like a million miles away and every moment they miss will never be repeated. I wonder how many parents keep secrets in regard to the status of their health – mental and physical from the

If you sit down on the grass in the sun with the wind quietly purposefully listening for spirits of souls you have loved you will hear them if you let your mind at ease and stop thinking they will come to you and speak with a whisper you will feel them in the tall grass with your fingertips their voices will tell you they miss you as much as you miss them they'll surround you before they leave you they won't tell you where they are going just that you can't follow you'll stand up and walk away and just when you think they will never return the wind will blow the sun will shine and somewhere in the distance you will hear a hum

It’s that moment when you turn off the lights to go to sleep. But sleep doesn’t come. Shadows invite you to dance with them on the wall. Your mind drifts along a river of worry and questions – so many questions. There are trivial thoughts such as the list of things to do that you didn’t do and whether you have a stomach ache from the dessert you ate or was it that sandwich with all the mayonnaise you had for lunch? Then the heavyweights move in. You miss those whom are no longer with you. Whether it’s a break up, a divorce or they have passed from this world;there is always going to be an emptiness in the depth of your gut. There are many “what ifs?” and “what’s next?” There’s a true appreciation for all that you have – for the person lying beside you, for your  children sound asleep, for the parents you so dearly love, some with you, some gone and some hanging on for dear life. There’s money. There’s always money. It shouldn't be in

The Jewish New Year is quickly approaching. There will be honey and Challah and prayers and rejoicing. There will be families and loved ones and grandparents with grandchildren and aging parents with their own children. There will be laughter and jokes while enjoying dinner and lunch and walking home together arm in arm, hand in hand with the people most important to you. But there will also be fresh cuts that will turn into raw scars and never fully heal. There will be lasting images of the end of a life well lived packed with pain and suffering that served as a great injustice and indignity to the person that they were - a person who cared for you with every molecule of their soul and left this world too soon and too brutally. And you won't forget because you can't forget. Just when you think you may be having an okay moment, your stomach turns and you feel as if you are going to be sick except you are sick already - sick, exhausted, beaten and torn and there is

In the Jewish religion it is traditional to “Walk around the block” at the end of the Shiva/mourning period. As a Rabbi recently explained to my family, it is a way of saying “we are finished mourning and are returning the community rather than having the community come to us.” For me, the “walk around the block” symbolizes the circle of life and the hard, cold fact that life goes on. You lose someone you love. You open your home to friends and family and people who come out of the woodwork that you never imagined seeing. You sit on low chairs that are hard as rock and your back aches, your legs cramps and your neck becomes stuck in an unnatural upright position. There are swarms of well-meaning people who “close talk” and touch and even kiss and hug you although if you ran into them on the street such acts of affection in many cases would not take place. People come to pay their respects for different reasons. Some have recently lost a parent and can relate to the awful,

The friendships you create and nurture when you are younger are different than the ones you establish later in life. The friends who grew up with you knew your entire family. They played in your house and sometimes their siblings and your siblings and a whole gang of neighbourhood kids joined together for a game of baseball or hockey or just to hang around in the park doing nothing and doing everything. They also knew things that friends you meet later in life will never know like the smell of your house/family. You know the way every family has their “smell” They also knew if your mom was a good cook and enjoyed her best meals and desserts and they knew what type of food was in your fridge and in your pantry and how much of it they could get away with eating without feeling uncomfortable. There was that one house where everyone hung out either because the parents were away often or they just didn’t care if there were 20 kids in their basement doing whatever they were doing.