10 Things That Made Me Cry In 2023
October 7. But not until a day later, because the muzh didn’t want to ruin my holiday.
My baby’s tiny little kicking feet of joy.
Singing Savta’s Kukuriku kukuriku, tarnegol koreh! to my kids, because she’s not here to do it anymore.
When I went to see Sabba Willy in Israel two months before he died (at 102!!), and he wasn’t very lucid or responsive, but on the third day my sister and I were singing zmiros and I reached out to hold his hand and he kissed mine and put his head on my shoulder.
This video, which discusses film in an elevated way AND reminds me of the genius of You’ve Got Mail:
The act one closer of BOOP! The Musical because it’s so rare when the anticipation of a thing matches the actual thing itself:
That one night when I was exhausted and alone and my kids were hyper and I changed my baby’s ensemble right before she had a second blowout diaper
JoJo Siwa tipping her cap to Dick Van Dyke (the first time):
When my kid needed stitches. The muzh took him to urgent care so I wouldn’t have to.
I’m sure there were tears of joy. I’m sure of it; tears that weren’t tied up in sadness or Herculean efforts or relief. But it was a year of great fatigue, and with it my legendary (to me) memory took a bit of a hit. Here’s hoping the good times stick as well as the bad next year. Cheers!