We live in a world made up more of story than stuff. We are creatures of memory more than reminders, of love more than likes. Being attentive to the needs of others might not be the point of life, but it is the work of life. It can be messy, and painful, and almost impossibly difficult. But it is not something we give. It is what we get in exchange for having to die.

Why I'm not where you are ...

I don't mind if smiles come at my expense, I'm a small price to pay.

Why didn't I learn to treat everything like it was the last time. My greatest regret was how much I believed in the future.

I'm deeply curious about Jewish things. I've toyed around with the idea of going to rabbinical school.

Food for her is not food, it is terror, dignity, gratitude, vengeance, joyfulness, humiliation, religion, history, and, of course, love. As if the fruit she always offered us were picked from the destroyed brances of out family tree.

Family are the people who must make you feel ashamed when you are deserving of shame.