Sister Dearest

I know your smile
I know your grin
and I know the different nuances between them

I know your walk
I know your waddle
and I know when you begin to feel unwell

I know your pleading eyes
I know your puppy-dog faces
and I know that I can't ever say "no" to you

But do you hear my tired laugh?
Do you see my drained collapse?
Do you sense the tears welling just beyond the pale?

I'm breaking down, sister dear.
I can't carry your burdens forever.

Fooled Ya!

When I'm cycling, I feel nauseous and tired and altogether out of sorts.
I'm short tempered, can barely speak on the phone, and don't really feel up to cooking dinner.

So last week, my sister called to ask if she could come to us for a Shabbos meal. I declined, saying I wasn't feeling well. She responded by inviting us for a meal.

The next thing I knew, my other sister was on the line, inviting us for Shabbos.

I sat on the couch most of the meal.

She thinks I'm pregnant.

Oh well. Better get a few meals out of her before she realizes she was fooled.
:-)

Disappointment

Been a week since last injection

I'm feeling kind of queasy

Could this be what it feels like?

It really seemed too easy.

I've said all my tehillim

My back begins the aching

And 40 days of shmiras peh

Has been mine for the taking

My husband's feeling hopeful

And I start to feel the same

Could this really be the very month

That G-d picked our name?

But yet another disappointment

My heart has again borne

Now it's time to start another round

Of drives in early morn.

To Darius, Son of Esther

You are the son she never asked for

Never wanted

You were born to an unwilling mother

Forced to leave her husband for your father

A yiddeshe mamme

With a child who considered himself of another faith

Did you ever hear your mother crying?

Did you ever stop to think of her pain?

She gave up everything for her nation

A nation that you did not call your own.

I often think of your mother's hidden pain

As her name reveals, Esther was adept at hiding

And I hide, too.

Perhaps those monthly lost chances

would have turned out to be you.

Thoughts on Tznius

When I was not yet twelve

My teacher said to me

The most important part of tznius

Is to cover each knee

I wonder what she'd say now

If she saw me this way

Knees not quite covered by the drape

As on my back I lay

And when I got to high school

I heard most every week

Don't ever show your elbows

If purity you seek

I wonder what they'd say now

If they saw me sitting tight

Sleeve pushed more than halfway up

As my blood flows through the pipe

And every summer, while at camp

I knew it was the rule

Don't you ever, ever dare expose

Your midriff at the pool

I wonder what they'd say now

If they saw me standing here

My belly sure ain't under wraps

As I stab the needle there

Murder in the First Degree

I remember it like yesterday.

With great trepidation, I opened the FedEx box with the large "refrigerate immediately" sticker. Me? I'm going to have to inject myself? I was terrified. Absolutely shaking.

I read the directions - Open. Twist. Line up the numbers. Pull. Watch a little liquid emerge. Line up the numbers. Pull. Squeeze the stomach. Plunge it in. Wait a few seconds. Pull out.

I felt nauseated. I never dreamed I'd be stabbing myself daily.

Now, it's become old habit.

I stab myself, and more of me dies each time.

Paint-by-Number

Little child, home from school

Shrugs his coat off at the door

Grabs his brushes, papers, paint

Sets them out upon the floor

Stares at the paper, clean and white

Licks his lips, then dabs with glee

The only colors he can find

A brownish red monotony

The paper, once so fresh and pure

Has now been sullied by his art

This ugly number is a fence

Though not so high, keeps us apart

7 boxes does he paint

With varying crimson hues

Till the last one, pure as snow

Chase away the number blues.