We will sit, not with parents or grandparents, but ourselves, like we do on a Tuesday evening for a lazy supper
I walked through the doors of the hospital’s main entrance and headed straight for intensive care. A friend of mine was caring for an ill relative, and I’d come to spend some time with her. As I exited the elevator and entered that alternate universe known as the ICU, I noticed a flurry of activity around
We can’t plan. Not what tomorrow may look like, not what next month may look like
Is it even meant to return to normal — or is this supposed to be leading us somewhere else?
Then came the phone call. “Rivkie, it’s Chana. I cannot believe what I just heard”
When I remember the special moments of my youth, I panic. What memories will my children have?
