A Eulogy

Dear Ma, 

What can I say to the woman who brought me into this world.  You waited for so many years. So much pain and heartache.  You suffered through so much.  But despite all of the suffering, you were still my mother. Our Ma. You were so proud of us three children.  

The person that people saw in the last few years was not the real you. Although, your personality definitely peeked through. Your stubbornness. Your spunk. Your fight. You were a survivor. You taught me what it means to live. To hold on. 

I want to share some memories of the good times. 

Remember the time that we went horseback riding and you sat on the side reading a book waiting for us as a pig tried to eat your chair. 

Remember when you got your hair cutting license in Israel. You were so proud. Little did I know I would spend my childhood with short hair and short bangs as you would practice on my hair. Everyone in the Dorset area came to you for haircuts.

Remember how you were always bickering with Aunt Naomi on the phone and whenever you got together. You always argued about the time you walked through the glass door, you only got a book about animals, and when Aunt Naomi fell out of the car, she got markers. I can’t even count how many times I had to hear that story. 

Remember how you always had to match everything. Your shoes matched your skirt, which matched you shirt and eyeshadow. Your earrings were probably heavier than you.

Remember how you made coca cola chicken. Apricot meat that would melt in your mouth. And the best Bubby Kugel. 

Remember how you bought every Jewish book that came out. Your love for Rabbi Biographies. And millions of Miriam Adahan books. You went to almost every WIT class possible. Your notes were everywhere around the house. You went to shul every Shabbos. Always sitting up front. 

Remember Tai Chi. Remember how you and Bubby would be sitting by the window in Household two waiting for one of us to come. The minute you would see Abba walking towards you, you would stand up and mimic his motions. Putting your arms up above your head and copying all the arm motions he was doing in the parking lot. 

Your love for Abba was beyond anything. 

Remember how proud you were of Chaim. He is your pride and joy. Your obvious favorite. 

Remember when you found out you were pregnant withDevora. Was probably the happiest day of your life. 

Remember how you would talk to your father every day on the phone. 

Remember how you loved Simcha and Shira. How proud you were of the families they crated. 

Remember how grateful you were to Yechiel for the dedication and care for Aunt Naomi. You finally get to be with your sister. And your mother. And Bubby. You are finally pain free.  

Your hand has always been warm. You always smiled when you saw me. I am your first. My voice is the one you always recognize. I am your original. Been there through thick and thin. Ma. Please. I'm sorry. Sorry for this life you've had. Sorry for all the pain. Sorry I haven't always been there. I'm sorry.

Ma. I love you. Mommy. I’ll miss you. Imma. Forever your daughter.

passive nothing

Dear A

It’s very hard for me to write this letter. To verbalize what it is I am feeling. But I feel that if I don’t get it out, I might burst. I just don’t understand why you act different toward me. Do you even notice? Do you feel the difference? Do you even notice that you are avoiding me? That you are distant. Not around. Is it because of something I did? I just don’t get it. Don’t you want to have a relationship with me? Why shut me out? Do you feel happy? Coming home late and avoiding me? Making Shabbos plans and not even including me? When is the last time you called me? Texted me? Do you even notice? Do you know that sometimes I feel like an orphan? All alone. No parents to turn to. That if something happened to me, they wouldn’t even know. No relationship with any family. My siblings only call me when they need something. And when I call them, they don’t have much to say. Why have I always been there for you and for them and I can’t seem to get the same in return. What happened to the backgammon games? Eating supper together? Shabbos meals? The walks? The guitar lessons? We need each other. We have always been there for each other. To bounce ideas on. Our days. I don’t understand what happened? Are you mad at me? Do you feel happy in the way that things are? Because I don’t. I have made effort a few times and you have pushed me away. You are not approachable. You talk to everyone but me. And I am not ok with that. If there’s something you want to say, then say it. This passive behavior is not getting us anywhere. So here is me stepping out of myself. Reaching out to make a change. I hope you take this letter to heart and make a change.

You know where to find me.

Your daughter,

R

Nowhere. Fast.

I just have to say that I don't get it. What does god want from me. 

You think that you work hard. Get your life together. For the most part. And he just sends you a reminder. That he's in charge. 

Why do I not place blame in the correct place. Selfish. 

People are selfish. They think of themselves. And not others. Do not consider the consequences. The results. The effects. 

And yet. I still blame god. For being that puppeteer. Playing me like a marionette. 

Not letting me have a break. To live. In peace. 

But seriously. You know better. Answer me why. It's not ok. 

Don't look to me to make your life better. As a distraction. I am not a pawn in your game. I am a free agent. And I call the shots in my life. 

So take my advice. Make smarter choices. Don't be led by your temptations. They'll get you nowhere. Fast.

My Life

While going through old boxes in the back of my closet, I found a lot of shit. Dishes. Clothes. Scrapbooks. Albums. Pictures. Letters. Memories that had been packed away. Mostly forgotten. Not sure what got into me. Why the nostalgia need. Most definitely was a bad idea.

I can be vague here as is my norm. Or I can just be honest. Tell you that seeing those albums was painful. Although I laughed and fake-gagged at the time. I can say that I am over it. It's all the past and doesn't affect me. But that is not the truth. I did flip through those pictures. Glanced at the scrapbooks containing hundreds of letter. Handwritten love letters. Flashing back to another time. A time that was less complicated.

I saw myself. What outsiders saw. Religious. Observant. Following the rules. Whatever you want to call it. I was playing the part. Living the lifestyle.

I know now that it was all a facade. Waiting to crash at my feet. Living in a fantasy land. Surrounded by infatuation. Desire for a future. No understanding of the present. Of the facts in front me. Avoiding reality. All to live in delusion. A dream of what I wanted and not what was.

I gave up myself. I lost who I was. And I did it willingly. I followed a path that I didn't want. To fit in. To please everyone else. But I was not happy. I was controlled. Miserable. I was uncomfortable in my own skin. I wasn't authentic.

And that's not who I am. Who I ever wanted to be. All I ever wanted to be. Unique. To be authentic. What you see is what you get. Not two-faced at all. Honest to a fault.

And now, although a lot has changed. It is not a bad thing. Looking at my face in those pictures, I see a lonely and sad girl. Standing at a distance from those around her.

Lost. Alone. Leading a life that is not her own. Trapped in a life she doesn't desire.

Today I am grateful. I feel lucky that I have myself back. That I am living my life. As I want to live it. And I won't take that freedom for granted. And I won't lie and say that it isn't hard. Doesn't get painful. The loneliness is definitely there under the surface. But I  no longer feel hopeless. Because my happiness and my life do not depend on you or anyone else. It's internal. My choice. My goals. My life.

My life.

A Letter To My Sister

Dear D

I can’t believe that I am actually writing this letter. But here goes. You are finally 18. Finally going to Israel. Taking the next step in your life. You have waited for this for so long. Independence. Freedom.

There’s so much that I could tell you. But I don't really have the words. A long history. We both know. We were always so close. Fighting together. Side by side. Dealing with life. But things happens. And that’s part of life. It’s ok. It makes us stronger. And one day we'll look back and laugh. I know, no one ever likes to hear that but it’s partially true.

I hope you know that you can always count on me. That I'll always be here for you. A phone call away. And now a plane ride away. I'll always worry about you. And care about your wellbeing. I might say things you won’t like. But that’s what big sisters are for. Support. Love. I even pray for you. (And that’s saying something.) I want the best for you. I know you can do it. And I believe in you.

Here is my advice and wish for you:

You gotta believe in yourself…And not let things hold you back…Not your situation…And especially not people…Make sure to always surround yourself with happy people….Who will be a positive influence on you….And that you will be a positive influence on them….Make sure to be a loyal person….And always follow your gut….Your heart….You know what is right….Don’t let the past bring you down…Live in the present….Enjoy every moment….Because it will never happen again….Have a plan for the future….But don’t always wait for the next thing….You’ll miss out on the now….Get a good night sleep….That will make every day so much better…You will be a better, more stable person on a good night’s sleep….It’s ok to miss that late night conversation….Take every moment in Israel (in life) and soak it in….You will never have this opportunity again….Taste every food.…Take every class….Talk to every teacher….Go to every Shabbos experience….And go to a therapist….Tell him/her what you really feel….And work through things….Don’t hold back….This is your opportunity….Your chance….Don’t let it slip by…Before you blink, it will be over….And real life will hit you.

Just remember that you are strong. And kind. And that you can do anything you set your heart to. I will always be rooting for you. I am your big sister.

I love you very much. And I’ll miss you a lot.

Love,

R

relationship

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GV-WONhEZec

Poof

I sit here reading her response. And I'm just bawling my eyes out. Although, I was just waiting for that thing that would tip me off. Push me over the edge I was standing on. Unravel me. She always has a way with words. And I guess I'm just so vulnerable right now. Yeah me. Vulnerable. Shocker. Who would believe it. There's nothing that's right. Nothing feels ok. No stability. Pain in all directions.   Misery and sadness swallowing me whole. Sadly, I wish for a hug. A need for some comfort. A bit of love. Maybe some attention. Perhaps affection would do me some good. But alas, it is not there. Does not exist. Not an option. Not for me. Nope. Instead, I drown in my own sorrow. Suffocate in my own emotions. Disappear a little bit more each day. Until poof. I will cease to exist.

Open Me Up

Why is it so hard for me to open up. Why has it always been so easy to open up to total strangers. To people who could not be there for me. Who maybe did not even care. Who had other lives. That did not include me. I was a secret. A dirty little secret. To too many. I was not first. I was used. But it was so easy. Simple. I could say whatever I wanted. Be whoever I wanted. Whoever they wanted me to be. Was that the real me. Was it all a game. Fake. A facade. I could tell them whatever truth I wanted. Even if it was an ugly one. I didn't feel judged.

But now. When it actually matters. When it's real life. My life. I am silent. I cannot open my mouth. I cannot share a thing. Everything is on the surface. I can't break through. I do not know how to open up. There is potential right in front of me. And I will lose the opportunity. All because my lips are sealed. My walls have flown up. And I do not know how to break them down. I'm scared to introduce the real me. The complicated, imperfect version of me. Most people can not handle truth. It's all too much. I'm too much.

So now what. How do I get past this fear. This constant fear of unknown. It's not others' I should be concerned about. It seems it's my own judgement I am fearing. It seems it's me who doesn't feel worthwhile. Worthy. Why am I constantly my own worst enemy. Harshest critic. Why can't I see that I am a good person. That I am not so bad. That the past does not define me. It builds me. How can I open up if I do not see my own good qualities. Who am I really punishing.

Endless Pattern

Do you realize what you're doing. How your actions affect other people. Do you see me. Or are you looking through me. Do you see a pattern. An unhealthy cycle. Why must this continue. Happen once again. When will you learn from the past. And not continue to repeat it. Do you feel bad. Do you notice the damage you cause. The pain you cannot erase. The distrust that arises and develops. Never to return. Are you so far gone that you do not notice anymore. Cannot choose your family. Are you so alone and wrapped up in your own mind. You don't see what you're doing. How many times will there be room for forgiveness. Will we always be able to let you back in when you come around. When you decide you're ready. Can we withstand this one more time. Do you see us hurting. Desperate for your love and attention. Are you totally blinded by your own pain. Is she all you can think about. Must she consume your every thought. Do you see how crippled you've made us. Do you. Do you.

A Response

I've thought a lot about what to write to you. I've wanted to respond for months. There's something stopping me. Pride maybe? I can't admit that my life is hell. I can't verbalize it properly. And I can't justify it or downplay things. That's what I would end up doing. I can't pretend that everything is ok. That I'm ok. I would be lying. I'm struggling and I can't ask for help. I don't know how. I refuse to admit defeat. I have to keep up appearances. The outside world has to think I'm strong. I must fool them all. The problem is that I couldn't fool you. I couldn't fake it around you. You saw right through me. And that scared me. And now I've taken too long. Let it go too far. And I don't know how to fix things. Repair a broken bridge. I think about it daily and yet I haven't done anything about it. Now what?

A Worthy Self

Here's where I stand. I'm Confused. And yes, I'm going to make this about me. This is about me. This is my life. I'm the only one who has my back. There is no one else looking out for me. I have to take care of myself. Call me selfish if you want. I don't care. It doesn't bother me. I'll accept that label. I deserve to be selfish. I have never chosen myself. I have always chosen everyone else. I have lived my life choosing everyone else. And I have put myself aside. I have never been important. But if I have learned anything in the last few years it's that I matter. That I am important. Just as much as everyone else. If not more.

It's my time. I have to choose me. If I don't make myself important, I won't survive much longer. I won't make it through this life. I will continue to feel broken and bruised. And I deserve better. I deserve. I am worthy. I matter. So I choose me. I must protect myself and make smart decisions.

I choose to do the right thing. I choose to be a good person. I choose to be alive. I choose to continue to fight. To fight to be happy. To function. And not let this life I've been handed knock me down. I choose not to drown in my misery. I'm choosing me. I choose to look forward. To have a future. Because I deserve everything. I deserve it all. I am worthy. I matter.

And I will put myself first one day. And maybe today is that day. This moment. Right now. I take the first step. And one day, hopefully soon, I will be loved for me. I will be accepted and appreciated. For me. Someone will know me and accept me. Me. For who I am. I will be cherished. And desired. Treasured. I will be special. I will matter to someone else.

It won't be a fairy tale and it won't be a happily ever after. It will be imperfect. But it will be my imperfect. A life for me. It will be my life. Because I matter. And I deserve. I deserve great things. And somewhere deep inside, I believe. I believe in goodness. I believe I deserve. I believe that good can happen. It can happen to me too. Because I am worthy. I matter.

So I choose me. I am taking a stand. I am doing the right thing. No matter how difficult. This is my life. And I will not watch it pass me by. I will not be a passive passerby. I will participate. And live this life the best way I can. The only way I know how. I will make smart choices. And I will get up when I fall. I will not let mistakes swallow me. I will stand up and dust myself off. And I will continue on. I choose me.

Grant Me One Hour

Yesterday was a crappy day. I was overtired. I haven't been sleeping. I was cranky. I felt alone. I felt betrayed. I felt used. I felt hopeless. I felt neglected. I felt withdrawal. I was reminded of where I am and who I am. Of what I have done. I received a large bill. Again. I was told I need another MRI. Need to go to a new neurosurgeon. 30 Page questionnaire. I had blasts of memory. Pangs of emotion.

And yet I felt nothing.

I decided to change my mood and went to the nursing home to visit my Bubby. Without fail, she always manages to lift my spirits. She is truly the happiest person I know. Bli Ayin Hara, at 104 years, she exemplifies how to live. She hasn't just been alive. She has lived. She is my role model. My hero. I wish I could be just like her. (Although I don't want to live that long) She sits at her table with all her friends around her. Each person is a "personality." There's Mrs. S., who speaks 8 languages and lived in Bnei Brak. So we always chat in Hebrew. She never likes the food served and can always be found snacking on crackers, when no one is looking. Yesterday, Mrs. S. was combing through People Magazine. Bubby glances at the magazine and rolls her eyes. There's Gigi, who is the "teenager" of the group. Her thick Russian accent always cracks me up. She always talks about the past and all the different countries she has lived in. She always wheels herself over to see if Bubby has eaten anything. She is currently annoyed that the hairdresser butchered her hair. Then there's the men's table. They keep to themselves mostly. Coming over once in a while to say hello, or just wink from across the room. They all light up when I walk in the room.

Bubby has lived a beautiful and meaningful life. I am petrified for her not to be around anymore. I know that it will happen eventually. But I am not ready to give her up. She is the only person I feel truly happy around. She sees through me. She sees my core. And loves me for who I am. No matter what. Ok, maybe she hates my nail polish. But she thinks I am absolutely beautiful. She loves everything I am. And she makes sure to tell me how wonderful I am. Over and over again. She always plays with my hair. She thinks my hair is stunning. Or as she says "wonderful." In her eyes, I am perfect. I am special. I am beautiful. The truth that I see all fades away. For an hour, I believe her. I feel like that person she sees. For an hour, I am happy. At peace.

But then it's time to leave. And reality hits as the automatic doors open. Back into the freezing cold world. Back to my real life. Back to the person I was an hour before.

Second Chance

Are people capable of change

Do you give someone a chance

Or hold them at fault for the past 

When they could hold you to the same standard 

Does giving them a chance 

Mean you are desperate 

Make you pathetic 

Is there such a thing as fate 

Coincidence 

Does god send such clear messages 

Do people deserve second chances 

Is the potential worth it

Despite the unknown 

Is this a reward

Or a tease

Perhaps just a punishment 

Should credit be given

For persistency 

And patience 

Am I thinking too much into this

Once a Cheater...

I just don't understand why a person would do that. Is there ever an excuse?

Abuse. Neglect. Escape. Need.

Truthfully you're selfish. All you can think about is yourself. You obviously don't care about anyone else but yourself. You don't care about the consequences. You don't care how it affects those around you. You are playing with fire. And while you are definitely burning yourself, you are also burning those around you. Your husband will leave you. He will not forgive you. He will take your child. He will remarry. Your child will have another mother. Your child will be burned. Damaged for life. Your parents will choose his side. What you're doing is unforgivable.

And you can't see it. Any if it. All you care about is yourself. Your pleasure. You. You're selfish and narcissistic. Self-absorbed. You can't stop.

I think there is still hope. You can still save yourself. But you must get out. Now. You must stop. Now. Cold turkey. You must get help. Now. There's no other choice. It cannot wait. He might still be able to forgive you. Or at least try to work through things. But you must choose him. You must choose your family. Stop choosing yourself. Stop choosing your pleasure.

You have a disease. You are unwell. You need help.

I hope you make the right choice. Because truthfully, if someone did this to me. I would never be able to forgive. I would not stay. No tolerance. Unacceptable. Trust would be gone, forever. You are a cheater. You will always be a cheater.