I would have stayed forever within the garden of Re-mose’s childhood, but time is a mother’s enemy.
Right now, I’m Writing song lyrics. Experimenting with a play. Toying with an idea for a documentary. I hope one of these will eventually be launched into the light of day.
One of my favorite poets, Neruda, writes close to the bone. Though I know only a little Spanish, I like to compare the Spanish and English lines and see how the translator worked.
It is terrible how much has been forgotten, which is why, I suppose, remembering seems a holy thing.
As a journalist I’m comfortable doing library research, and I did a lot! I had a fellowship at Radcliff for a year which gave me access to the Harvard system.
The other reason women wanted daughters was to keep their memories alive.
Of all life’s pleasures, only love owes no debt to death.
One of his tears fell in my mouth, where it became a blue sapphire, source of strength, source of strength and eternal hope.
My husband, Jim, converted to Judaism just before our wedding.
Until very recently men and women inhabited very separate spheres. There was always interconnection, passion, love. But men and women didn’t hang out at the end of the day and chat about what their day was like at the office.
I wanted to cry, but I realized that I was too old for that. I would be a woman soon and I would have to learn how to live with a divided heart.
They sang the words in unison, yet somehow created a web of sounds with their voices. It was like hearing a piece of fabric woven with all the colors of a rainbow. I did not know that such beauty could be formed by the human mouth. I had never heard harmony before.
I could not get my fill of looking. There should be a song for women to sing at this moment or a prayer to recite. But perhaps there is none because there are no words strong enough to name that moment.
I moved my arms through the water, feeling them float on the surface, watching the waves and wake that followed my gesture. Here was magic, I thought. Here was something holy.
I am so honored to be the vessel into which you pour this story of pain and strength.
My heart is a ladle of sweet water brimming over.
One of my great secrets was knowing I had the power to make her smile.
The story it told was unremarkable: a tale of love found and lost- the oldest story in the world. The only story.
Wherever you walk, I go with you. Selah.
If you want to understand any woman, you must first ask about her mother and then listen carefully.