I'm dreaming about lost things. Last night it was the recurring dream of cleaning out a house with my sister's belongings. I saw her handwriting, notes about live and advice she had written down that I'd given her. Then I was at a farewell meal for someone I worked with, someone who in real life … Continue reading Lost things
1966
My dad's first cousin Peter texted me yesterday, with a photo marked 1966. "Your dad?" he asked. Peter is cleaning out boxes of family memorabilia and came upon this photo I had never seen before. 1966. My dad would have been 23. It was before he and my mom met. He had more hair than … Continue reading 1966
Language fails me
I'm swept away by the current of emotions, by the generations of Jewish traditions that course through me these days, these weeks, these months. I am remembering my dad's tallis that he wore in the synagogue, and how it was one he had from boyhood, and how I made challah this year for Rosh Hashanah, … Continue reading Language fails me
Oxygen
What I want to tell you is that my uncle died late last night, or early this morning, I only know that my mom texted me at 2 am to tell me, only it was 9 am there, because she was on the last day of her two week trip through Ireland. and she found … Continue reading Oxygen
Becoming an Archaeologist
Snapshot of my crew members in western Utah, 2021. I didn’t go to college thinking I’d be an archaeologist one day. I went to college with a plan of not succumbing to my introverted tendencies and to not gain the dreaded “freshman 15.” While I was moderately successful at both of those things, I also … Continue reading Becoming an Archaeologist
Let Me Start With My Feet
This is something that I wrote and submitted to a Utah river guiding company for their blog (check out http://www.bikeraft.com), and it was originally posted on there in June 2022. I thought I'd share it here as well. More to come. I want to write about water, how I’ve always been drawn to it, and … Continue reading Let Me Start With My Feet
This is a love poem. For us.
This week I want to applaud everyone who is making it through their days doing all the things that are “normal.” Are you unloading the dishwasher, eating breakfast, taking a shower? You’re amazing. Did you walk the dog, get yourself to the grocery store, remember to lock the front door when you left the house? … Continue reading This is a love poem. For us.
I Want One Thing
I am Jewish, but not, what I call others that I know, a “super Jew.” My Jewish identity is tied to more to tradition than to religious observance. The last time I was in a synagogue was at my Dad’s yahrzeit, one year after his death, in 2013. I grew up going to Hebrew school … Continue reading I Want One Thing
Tiki.
August 2020. "Remember when you sent me this shirt?" I asked Jackie the other day. "Does it still smell like smoke?" she responded. I remember knocking off of work early, and meeting her for tiki drinks with quirky names like the Bearded Clam and the Three Rum Scum in the dark, smoky lounge, where they … Continue reading Tiki.
Redolent.
I still carry an old vocabulary word around with me, one from some list I was told to memorize as a teenager. Redolent. I can't tell you the Merriam-Webster definition exactly, but what I have always taken from it is this: a scent that carries with it a memory. I remember the hard gray suitcases … Continue reading Redolent.
