[1]
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 [2].
Art by Victoria Ling [1]