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My husband, the crazy, wonderful man I have been married to for decades, worked 14 hours straight, two days in a row. Which—how do I put it mildly—is completely insane.
Tag: <span>understanding</span>
Today, I will tell you a story of a young woman who liked to travel.
A long time ago in Giza/Cairo/Egypt
My grandmother probably noticed how different we were for the first time during our prayers in our old mountain chapel. She used the Lutheran form for the Lord’s prayer, I said it the Catholic way I had learned in the German bonding school, and each time she heard it, she shook her head in annoyance.
Since my school days, a poem by Hilde Domin has accompanied me.
Don’t get tired,
but
quietly hold out
your hand to the miracle, like a bird.
The F-Word, many of us use it without knowing what it actually means and what it stands for. Where does it come from? How did it start?
I have encountered loyalty in the eyes of other women all around the globe. In dark-colored eyes that are so different from mine. In freckled old faces, and in young wise eyes. Regardless of color, race, and upbringing, there is an understanding that we have for each other. We are the weaker gender, made to be weak not by nature but by man’s law.
The man working window eleven
at the DMV wears his name around his neck
like a medal won in a war
he never signed up for. Even from here,
no one leaves home unless
home is the mouth of a shark
you only run for the border
when you see the whole city running as well
In the past, women, hiding their faces, made many of us uncomfortable. We didn’t understand, didn’t even try. They just didn’t fit in our culture and our ways of thinking that everybody has to be just like us.