First Person Singular by Wendy Braitman

filed in Daily Life

All in the Family

July 31, 2013 ⋅  Email This Post ⋅  Print This Post ⋅ Post a comment

The day after my mother died, the Rabbi urged me and my brother to each write a eulogy. My heart was broken, and I couldn’t imagine getting through it. But the Rabbi insisted it would be therapeutic, and we siblings rose to the occasion. At the memorial service, I was surprised to hear my brother speak about our mom as the ultimate caregiver who was always there waiting with a meal. I’d admired her as a talented career woman (who also drove me nuts sometimes). So dear brother, I hope you don’t mind this contest.

Art by Victoria Ling

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