I can’t believe it’s been two years since I’ve hugged you, two years since you’ve shared your wisdom with me, two years since i lost you. where did the time go?
Author: Eve Posen
Justice Justice
I am spending this summer working at an organization in Chicago that works with seniors on issues of affordable housing and home care for the older adult population. I spend my days working with people who have worked their whole lives, who have given their all to society, and yet, their pensions don’t cover rent, their social security barely covers the basic needs of a month. I work with individuals who deserve to live their lives with dignity, who have only ever treated others as honorable human beings, and yet, they are in a fight with the world to keep their homes, to keep their buildings affordable.
A week ago, one of the members stated that they must stand up for themselves since no one else will do it for them. I’m not sure that statement is true, after all, I spend time with them, I’m fighting for them. I think, rather, they need to stand up for themselves because each individual has a story, a history, a voice that can will you to listen, help, hope with and for them.
I have been thinking about the injustices in the world, which i know are too many to mention. What strikes me the most is that the government thinks I need xx dollars to live on every year, and yet, this amount is at least $10,00 above the poverty line for a family of 4. That’s right, I need xx to live on, as a single, working student, and the family of four is expected to live on less than that. I dont’ understand the math. I learned that I am expected and asked to live on $xx a month and yet, a social security check, for a woman who has worked since she was 16, is nearly half that. how is that fair. Yes, I can pay back my loans, God-willing one day, but what happened to the value of a life’s work? what happens to the widow who has no one to take care of her? what happens to the man who needs a nurse to help him with his daily life but can’t afford to pay her with the raise in wages? what happens to the family who is expected to live on $xxx a month, after they’ve worked three jobs and can’t make ends meet?
I dont have the answers, I have an idea as to where to begin- with a relationship, a meeting, getting to know the neighbor you never spoke to. Writing a letter in support of those who helped build our country so we can have the freedoms today. Sometimes, it’s hard to find the Justice in our world, the justice in working hard… these are the glory years?!
A week ago, one of the members stated that they must stand up for themselves since no one else will do it for them. I’m not sure that statement is true, after all, I spend time with them, I’m fighting for them. I think, rather, they need to stand up for themselves because each individual has a story, a history, a voice that can will you to listen, help, hope with and for them.
I have been thinking about the injustices in the world, which i know are too many to mention. What strikes me the most is that the government thinks I need xx dollars to live on every year, and yet, this amount is at least $10,00 above the poverty line for a family of 4. That’s right, I need xx to live on, as a single, working student, and the family of four is expected to live on less than that. I dont’ understand the math. I learned that I am expected and asked to live on $xx a month and yet, a social security check, for a woman who has worked since she was 16, is nearly half that. how is that fair. Yes, I can pay back my loans, God-willing one day, but what happened to the value of a life’s work? what happens to the widow who has no one to take care of her? what happens to the man who needs a nurse to help him with his daily life but can’t afford to pay her with the raise in wages? what happens to the family who is expected to live on $xxx a month, after they’ve worked three jobs and can’t make ends meet?
I dont have the answers, I have an idea as to where to begin- with a relationship, a meeting, getting to know the neighbor you never spoke to. Writing a letter in support of those who helped build our country so we can have the freedoms today. Sometimes, it’s hard to find the Justice in our world, the justice in working hard… these are the glory years?!
Alligator Tears
Here I am, back in Chicago, ready to spend my summer making the world better, and my tears are the big droplets, like the raindrops that fell on my head in the storm this morning. They come and go, they are strong, steady, filled with rage, sadness, uncertainty. My life is full of uncertainty, what will happen next? I thought I had it all planned out, thought I knew, and last summer, my life flipped upside down, everything changed, my plan was called into question, my mind forced to go places it never wanted to go, my heart torn clean in two.
And then, i started to heal, started the long, tedious process of stitching my heart back together, of building a new plan, a plan with purpose and meaning, a plan that would fulfill me, a plan that would make my dad and my family proud. A plan i could fulfill. And life went on. I was surprised on the journey, on how strong I could be on the outside and how weak i feel on the inside. I was surprised by how much i could love, how trusting i could be, and scared at the what ifs of love. Excited by what was coming and hurt by indecision and waiting.
I finished my masters, i finished a stage in my plan, and now, my plan is back at zero, I don’t’ know where i’m going. I am back where I started last summer, my heart’s a little healed, but my foundation is shaky, and I am TERRIFIED of the uncertain future ahead of me. and so, I’ll cry, big alligator tears, they flow from my inner being, filling pools with my innocent tears, tears of fear, love, uncertainty, sadness, happiness, pain, guilt, a flood of anxiety over a bright future with too much uncertainty.
And then, i started to heal, started the long, tedious process of stitching my heart back together, of building a new plan, a plan with purpose and meaning, a plan that would fulfill me, a plan that would make my dad and my family proud. A plan i could fulfill. And life went on. I was surprised on the journey, on how strong I could be on the outside and how weak i feel on the inside. I was surprised by how much i could love, how trusting i could be, and scared at the what ifs of love. Excited by what was coming and hurt by indecision and waiting.
I finished my masters, i finished a stage in my plan, and now, my plan is back at zero, I don’t’ know where i’m going. I am back where I started last summer, my heart’s a little healed, but my foundation is shaky, and I am TERRIFIED of the uncertain future ahead of me. and so, I’ll cry, big alligator tears, they flow from my inner being, filling pools with my innocent tears, tears of fear, love, uncertainty, sadness, happiness, pain, guilt, a flood of anxiety over a bright future with too much uncertainty.
Days Gone By
I haven’t written in a while, partly because of the craziness that comes with graduation (yes, I completed the course work towards my Masters of Arts in Education) and part of it has to do with the numbness I have been feeling towards the world. I guess at this moment, I’m 9, nearly 10 months through the mourning process, and some days I still feel like I did at the beginning, missing him, them more and each day. And some times, i forget it happened, for that brief moment, my life is as I felt it should be, happy, fulfilled, loving every minute. And then something happens, and I want to call them so badly.
A year ago, I stood, ready to receive the Torah, to stand at the mountain for Shavuot a different person. I stood, less strong, more unsure of myself, now i stand, unsure, but strong.
Now I stand, hurting in my very core, craving normalcy, routine, as I did a year ago. I stand here, waiting for the Torah, for direction in my life, for a 5 year plan. I hurt at my core for my family, for those lost in the last year, conversations never had, conversations that can’t be had now, that can’t ever be had again.
A year ago, I stood, ready to receive the Torah, to stand at the mountain for Shavuot a different person. I stood, less strong, more unsure of myself, now i stand, unsure, but strong.
Now I stand, hurting in my very core, craving normalcy, routine, as I did a year ago. I stand here, waiting for the Torah, for direction in my life, for a 5 year plan. I hurt at my core for my family, for those lost in the last year, conversations never had, conversations that can’t be had now, that can’t ever be had again.
Three of a Kind
This morning, I went to minyan with a friend who had Yahrtzeit for her mother. It also turns out that another friend has Yahrtzeit for her mother today as well. Normally, in the minyan at school, I am the single voice during the Kaddish. When I go home, I am one of many, mostly older individuals saying Kaddish. Today, was the first time I was one of three, women, around the same age, saying Kaddish together. I didn’t have my usual, uncomfortable reaction to saying the Kaddish, I wasn’t alone. I felt empowered and connected. It isn’t that I don’t feel anything when I say Kaddish alone, it’s just that saying it, with the voices of three women, my age who have made it through this experience and come out on top, brought me a sense of comfort I have not yet felt in my year of saying Kaddish. Today, nobody stared at me, no one looked to see why I was saying Kaddish so young. No one heard my single voice. Today, I felt connected, strengthened by the presence of these two wonderful women.
Rabbi Eve Posen 