Despite their joy, Father's Day and Mother's Day exacerbate wounds. How does the motherless child feel while her classmates are making cards for Mom?
I’m lonely for a real leader. I’m surrounded by charismatic pulpit Rabbis, authors, lecturers, Halachic geniuses and community activists-- yet something is missing. I don’t feel like there’s anyone out there fighting for me.
There is no path. The path is many paths. It is an empty field. It is an entire twelve lane highway.
Relationship advice from someone who married the "wrong" girl.
The usual outcome of being nine months pregnant is to have a baby. Baruch Hashem, I had one.
All this is hard. As much as I wish I could be soft with myself and understanding and even compassionate, I can be excruciatingly mean.
I feel like a visitor to the earth. This place is absurd but oddly thrilling. I've learned to cope and even enjoy it. I may not be home, but I'm here.
