Search

Imaleh.li

Parenting, Judaism, and Other Crazy Journeys

The Luster of the Grapes

At the end of it all, my oldest son held my shoulders as I retched. “But you said they deserved it, Father,” he said later, after I shook his arms off and sank, shaking, to the ground. His words rang... Continue Reading →

A baby on a river

The sand is hot beneath my feet this winter, and a traveler told my father that the southern mountains knew no rain. Another bad year, people whisper. The water will run low again, they speculate. There won't be any harvests... Continue Reading →

The Color Red

My brother’s hair glows, reddish, in the starlight. "And then we can use-” His voice rises, and my mother leans forward. Her shoulders, her neck, her head - they all strain toward him, toward the vision roaring in his eyes.... Continue Reading →

The Curse of Sameness

I was born into a world that finished happening before me. "We chose wrong," my parents told me. "We sinned, and we were exiled. This is our world now." They lamented that other place they lost. They held on to... Continue Reading →

Bed Time Wisdom

My brother was dancing with pants on his head. My sister was jumping with a skirt there instead. My mommy kept saying "Can you p-l-e-a-s-e go to bed!" And I tried to tell her "I n-e-e-d to be fed." So... Continue Reading →

Changing Eve

"But you don't KNOW that it would go wrong, right? Not until you try!" Eve used to say it all the time. She said it when she wanted to go looking for lions in Eden's plains and when she thought... Continue Reading →

Maternity Leave

Here on the couch, I sit, no, I slouch, with my son on my shoulder and my tax returns folder, and a book, and another, (I don't know why I bother, I'll have to reread them when I won't have... Continue Reading →

To try or not to try?

It was never going to be easy, the promised land. Not like a candy, or a toy you promise to a child: Behave, darling, and you'll get a treat, ok? No, the promised land was more of an ordeal than... Continue Reading →

Boston Bound

When the pomegranates bloom, I think of my grandmother. "Did the pomegranates blossom yet," she used to ask me in those long afternoons on her veranda. "Are there fruits on the trees? What did you see today? what did you... Continue Reading →

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑