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The Heavenly Torture Of Grief, Of Winter, The Bulb Before The Tulip

It’s the time of year when the weather acts like a Philip Glass score. The body can’t get enough of the mikva of hot water, and we turn inwards. “What day is it?” one of my students asked in class last week, twirling his pencil. “The 87th of January,” another quipped back, without looking up. Read more

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‘The Haunting Of Hill House’ Brought Back Ghosts Of My Sister’s Death

Living a life damaged by grief is something I understand well. When I was eleven, my sister died. I usually just tell people that she died in a car accident, which is sort of true, but really, she drowned. It happened in Colorado, during the spring thaw when the melting snow on the mountain peaks turns peaceful, meandering rivers into dark, raging torrents. Read more