Given the recent revelations about the Sandra Bullock and Jesse James scandal and the less recent revelations about Tiger Woods, it is impossible to escape the age-old topic of infidelity. [click to continue…]
From the category archives:
Loss and Grief
Everyone is talking about the disaster on Tuesday night that struck the capital of Haiti and the surrounding areas where approximately two million people live. The 7.0 magnitude earthquake essentially destroyed the capital. The death toll may reach tens of thousands of residents and those visiting the island nation. One geophysicist said the earthquake’s power rivaled that of several nuclear bombs.
Correspondents in Port Au Prince and its suburbs reported whole blocks of collapsed buildings, with bodies lining the road as Haiti awaits assistance. People are disoriented and desperately seeking medical attention, water, food, shelter and electricity. [click to continue…]
Last night I went to yet another shiva. In the Jewish tradition we practice the ritual of shiva when somebody dies. Family, neighbors and members of the community visit the person in mourning – in this case it was a close friend whose father died. We sit together, say prayers, share memories about the lost beloved and eat. We eat to remind us that there is still sweetness and pleasure to be derived for the living. Invariably the shiva turns to reflection, conversation, and sometimes laughter. The energy shifts to one of connection and love. Community is at the core of sitting shiva.
My friends and I have entered a new phase of life. We are a group of friends that evolved over the years from the countless carpools, school committees, fundraisers, sports activities, and back-to-school nights that we shared in raising our children. Most of us also shared the passages of our children as they went through religious rituals. Together we celebrate the happy occasions and blessings in our lives, help each other through difficult transitions and we mourn our losses together. [click to continue…]
My mother asked me to come with my young family from our home in Boston to New York City to visit her and my father for Labor Day weekend. It had been a couple of months since we last saw each other. We exchanged words and I told her I was simply too busy to come for the weekend and we would have to arrange another time. I knew she was not happy. I also knew she did not understand how difficult it was to juggle two children and a busy professional life.
The following morning I received a phone call from my brother-in-law that my mother died. She was seventy-one years old and the picture of health and vitality. As I write this eleven years later, I can still feel the sense of shock and grief at her premature death. I feel her loss every day of my life, especially when there are life passages. I long to tell her about my daughter and my son and the way they are growing and flourishing. I long to tell her “I’m sorry” for not agreeing to come home that weekend. The irony is, of course, that I was home that weekend, but to mourn her death. [click to continue…]
