I didn’t bring it up with him directly, but I spoke to others about my concerns about his beard. The lack thereof. I was afraid that it meant that he accepted the army’s dress standards over our religious ones, allowing a foreign body to dictate his religious choices. My point of reference for that was my having given up playing music on Shabbos, despite that being antithetical to the standards of practicing and performing in the music world. Did that therefore mean that we didn’t share some important values, ones that would affect our relationship in the long term?
The story of discovering you, my Jewish family. About how you told me I belonged. And how we became so very close. And how one day, years later, you asked me to leave.
If Sare could only find the confidence her friends all seem to possess.
Prose on memories and what they're worth, if anything.
In another life, we would've had nothing to do with each other. In this one, this trip was the only thing we had in common.
My parents Abe and Sara wanted to be radical and change everything. But my rebellion was just being normal. Or at least, that’s what you would think if you saw me.
Because sometimes you write your story down, even though you'd rather just scream.
