I cried reading a book called Braiding Sweetgrass. The chapter on Witch Hazel reminded me of my [I.] grandmother and us going out in the fields looking for wild food, like blackberries, asparagus and sassafras. As a child I was happiest on the [W.] farm and it’s values seeped into my consciousness, even though I live in a city, where I grow veggies and flowers in a community garden and have potted herbs on my deck. It was sadness for a past that is no more in so many ways. And for the people in my life who are gone that I want to tell how much they made me the woman I am today.
June 12, 2021
I have just finished the first week of mourning my beloved aunt. Because of my disability I might not have been able to go to her funeral, which will now be held over Zoom. So, I'm grateful for that. I feel that everything is flat and sad. She was one of my most important supports and I still can't believe she's gone. I had two memorial gatherings for me this week where I got to say kaddish, the memorial prayer. I think more people attended because of its being over Zoom. A friend went to a Chanukah party that was a drive-in event and said she really enjoyed the way they did it, with Chanukah trivia (turn your right blinker on if this is true, left if false...) and streamed a concert for everyone. What a sweet way to handle gathering during the pandemic.
December 16, 2020