My God, I am so glad I found this and you. This piece spoke to the dissonance I have been feeling throughout the bombardment in Gaza from my safety in Canada. I see babies with the manes of my boys. I see humans with naked of my parents and my sisters and my friends. I see friends who’ve lost family members and continue to worry about the ones who are still there, in the terror.
Your words are a balm. The relief and safety too much to bear repetition made me sob while staring at my infant. I’m so grateful to have your writing to turn to.
Your writing is always beautiful, but this piece is especially poignant. New Year’s Eve has always been one of my favorite holidays as well - twelve years ago on NYE, in the middle of a crowded Boston bar, I kissed a guy at midnight. We had known each other for an hour. Six years, marriage, a baby, and a brain tumor later, he died. I thought my life was over; yet somehow, the worst thing that ever happened to me has turned into the best thing that ever happened to me, as evidenced by the new baby I lay nursing as I write this. Despite all the horror going on in the world, this truth allows me to retain hope - as does your writing. Thank you, as always, for sharing.
This was breathtaking and brilliant. I teared up at the juxtaposition you so expertly drew between life and death. The guilt of being safe and prosperous while so others suffer senselessly... it's complex and difficult to explain. But you've done it well. Best of luck with your new baby and I'm looking forward to reading more. Happy new year, also!
My God, I am so glad I found this and you. This piece spoke to the dissonance I have been feeling throughout the bombardment in Gaza from my safety in Canada. I see babies with the manes of my boys. I see humans with naked of my parents and my sisters and my friends. I see friends who’ve lost family members and continue to worry about the ones who are still there, in the terror.
Your words are a balm. The relief and safety too much to bear repetition made me sob while staring at my infant. I’m so grateful to have your writing to turn to.
Incredible. As always. Thank you for putting yourself through the paces to get these words out for us to revel and mire in.
Your writing is always beautiful, but this piece is especially poignant. New Year’s Eve has always been one of my favorite holidays as well - twelve years ago on NYE, in the middle of a crowded Boston bar, I kissed a guy at midnight. We had known each other for an hour. Six years, marriage, a baby, and a brain tumor later, he died. I thought my life was over; yet somehow, the worst thing that ever happened to me has turned into the best thing that ever happened to me, as evidenced by the new baby I lay nursing as I write this. Despite all the horror going on in the world, this truth allows me to retain hope - as does your writing. Thank you, as always, for sharing.
This was breathtaking and brilliant. I teared up at the juxtaposition you so expertly drew between life and death. The guilt of being safe and prosperous while so others suffer senselessly... it's complex and difficult to explain. But you've done it well. Best of luck with your new baby and I'm looking forward to reading more. Happy new year, also!
such a surreal and painful time, thank you for your beautiful reflections