I prefer keeping in mind even the possibility that existence has its own reason for being, which is precisely why I cannot call myself an atheist. It is why I occasionally recite the appropriate Jewish blessings before eating and am jealous of those who believe in supernatural forces that imbue their lives with purpose. It… Continue reading Possibility
More than two decades ago when I was applying to universities, I intentionally sought out strong programs in biomedical engineering. My thought at the time was that a degree in BME would serve me as a stepping stone for medical school. That turned out to be a terrible, foolish mistake on my part, which led… Continue reading This is not a poet
'This is not a blog' A triolet by David ben Alexander My soulful kaddish glowing bright My damaged heart behind a screen Herein, words set my nights alight My soulful kaddish glowing bright Reliving love, compelled to write Heart torn at death so unforeseen My soulful kaddish glowing bright My damaged heart behind a screen… Continue reading Object, or: Subject
In the summer of 2018 I was unexpectedly reborn as an orphan. Shabbat ended with the setting of the Jerusalem sun on July 7th, and after a brief closing ceremony at home I turned on my computer to learn that my Papa was lying intubated at a hospital in America. Shortly afterwards, his heart stopped.… Continue reading Orphaned, or: Reborn
Today is Papa's birthday. In Jewish tradition, we tend to commemorate the dates (on the Hebrew calendar) of our loved ones' deaths, rather than their birthdays. Same goes for historic figures like our Jewish sages of the many centuries. Generally, as somebody who deeply appreciates and respects his people's traditions, I tend to think of… Continue reading Today Papa did not turn 73
I've had a recurring dream, in which Papa somehow comes back to life some months after dying, only to die again permanently several months later. For some unclear reason, his temporary resurrection is not made public to everyone; and we are all aware and certain that it is, indeed, temporary. The details are very hazy… Continue reading My most disturbing dream
Wait for it... wait for... The tall blonde's thin cotton skirt swished as she walked by the loquat trees not far from the edge of the sidewalk. Behind her the sun continued its descent towards the distant Mediterranean, its beams piercing through the branches. The Star of David hanging from the her tanned neck sparkled.… Continue reading Short story: Comfort (III)
Through the cracks After Papa died in the summer of 2018, I was intent on chronicling my year of mourning as thoroughly as possible; but, unavoidably, many of my kaddish experiences fell through the cracks between my blog posts... I had neither the bandwidth nor the time necessary to cover every significant moment. Each kaddish… Continue reading Blemished mourning
The Skeptic's Kaddish 🇮🇱 
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