The end of the pandemic summer found us scrounging for a quick family vacation before school started, a desire that stemmed from endless months of sheltering in place and feeling trapped. Of feeling like we missed opportunities to celebrate, to travel, to connect, to explore. Of watching time pass by from the inside of our four walls. Since
Here they were facing another year with empty arms. The conflicting emotions of intense pain for another year gone by without the fulfillment of their most fervent dream and hope for the future. Another year of failed cycles. Another year of being different. Another year of infertility ruling their lives. Another year in which everyone
Sara and Jeremy were excited to grow their family.
Here they were, married for a little over a year. They were adults, yet still so young. They expected life to be easier, as it appeared to be for all their friends. Birth announcements, bris invites, simchat bats and meal train emails seemed to be
I am writing this article as a Bubby with a great deal of experience both personally and professionally in the baby domain. I have friends who will ask me questions regarding their grandchildren’s development particularly because life for the young parent got even busier than it had been for us more mature folks. With the current
Our very knowledgeable and reliable appliance repairman recently declared our 24-year-old washing machine to be unfixable. It’s time on this earth is limited. Today anyone might rightly say, “Twenty-four years of service from a major appliance is unheard of…just appreciate the service it gave you and move on.” I
September is (US) National Suicide Prevention Awareness Month. In May of this past year, the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention (AFSP) website shared new survey findings that reveal people experience anxiety (53%) and sadness (51%) more often now than before the coronavirus pandemic. Despite physical distancing guidelines, Americans
(Reprinted with permission)
I knew that my daughter’s days in this world were numbered. I felt her slipping away from us, and there was nothing that I could do to keep her here. For years, I put every ounce of my energy into keeping my daughter alive, into obstructing her eating disorder and
Note from Recovery column editor, Eta Levenson: Eating disorders can be very serious, even fatal. This article is dedicated to the memory of Gavrielle bat Asher Selig, z”l, who succumbed to the disorder and its comorbid depression this past month.
Michelle was first referred to me by the school nurse.
A couple of weeks ago, one of my clients hired me to clean out her mother’s large one-bedroom apartment. Currently the woman is living in an assisted living facility and will, unfortunately, not be able to return to her home. Due to COVID-19, it was decided I would work alone in the apartment. On this project, I
What an exciting day! Friends and family gathered to celebrate the present and the future. It was exhilarating and exhausting, but the happiest day of their lives. The beginning of an amazing life together. The possibilities were endless. Dreams for the weeks, months and years abounded. On that day a new family was started under the chuppah
My mother loved the word “potchka.” She would always tell us how something wasn’t a potchka at all, when clearly it was. At least for any normal person it would be, but then mothers are never regular human beings. They definitely have superpowers, don’t they? So this article is titled, “Why Potchka?” and the answer lies