Tag: phone

Part I of this series introduced the 6,000-mile driving tour to the Canadian Rockies that my wife, Barbara, and I took in the van driven by my brother, Avi, and our sister-in-law, Martha.

It's the dog days of August, and between the sizzling heat, the numbing humidity, the rain and the never-ending traffic and airport delays, there is a lot to complain about people's actions.

Last week, to my deep distress, my cell phone disappeared from my purse. I don't know whether it somehow fell out, or if someone on the very crowded street purposely brushed against me and slipped a hand into my purse.

Insensitive Tabloid    Kudos for calling out the New York Post on its habit of topping stories involving Jews with headlines that are at best...

As my husband deteriorated from his chronic illness, the first thing we did was get him a cell phone.

It was one of those cold, rain-soaked evenings - the kind that make you look forward to a hot drink, a good book and a soft couch to curl up on.

In this five-part series I have tried to explain what works and what doesn't when trying to send a message of support to someone in a time of crisis.

For the last two weeks I have been sharing parts of a well-meaning but inappropriate, advice-filled, e-mail that was sent to a well spouse through a third party.

"When you go back and you think about what it is," Jake Ehrenreich told me over the phone, pausing to put down his cell phone whenever he saw a nearby police car, "it's all about tradition."

When I was a camper way back in the previous century, there was a game we would play called "Capture the Flag".

Dear Mordechai, When I decided to get a divorce, I resolved early on to take the high road. Whenever my children are in earshot, I am careful to refer to my ex in only posi­tive terms. I stick to blame-free explanations for why my marriage ended, and keep my venting phone chats with my sister, late at night, when the kids are asleep. It hasn’t been easy, and no I’m not perfect. I’ve slipped here and there, but overall, I’ve protected my children from the fallout of my feelings. Last weekend, though, my daughter returned from her mother’s house and said, “I know why you and Mommy divorced. It’s be­cause you lied to her!” Guess what? It’s not the first time. I’ve spoken to her about it, and she only defends her behavior; I don’t think she’ll ever change. Now what? (Answer, continued from last week)

Dear Mordechai, When I decided to get a divorce, I resolved early on to take the high road. Whenever my children are in earshot, I am careful to refer to my ex in only positive terms. I’ve stuck to blame-free explanations for why my marriage ended and keep my venting phone chats with my sister to late at night when my kids are asleep. It hasn’t been easy, and no, I’m not perfect. I’ve slipped here and there, but overall, I’ve protected my children from the fallout of my feelings. Last weekend, though, my daughter returned from her mother’s house and said, “I know why you and Mommy divorced. It’s because you lied to her!” Guess what? It’s not the first time. I’ve spoken to her about it, and she only defends her behavior so I don’t think my ex will ever change. Now what?

When my wife and I were about to leave Israel after last Sukkos, our son and daughter-in-law told us they were expecting another child to be born about two weeks before Pesach. We realized immediately that it would be difficult for them to make Pesach at home.

Silence is assent, or so the saying goes. Yet, in today's world, does someone's silence mean agreement?

Chronic illness, to the great pain of everyone involved, only ends in one way, death.

Whenever I have a speaking engagement, I always ask people to turn on their cell phones.

Most people over 40 have experienced a time or two when their mind just goes blank.

We all know them - the sad sacks who seemingly were born under a bad constellation.

When we first marry, we assume life will be wonderful. We rarely think about or discuss potential problems or the possibility of illness darkening our doorstep.

You. Yes, it is you that I'm talking to.

I just got off the phone with my oldest grandson. He is four.

One wonders, what are they talking ABOUT? With WHOM are they talking? WHY are they compelled to be SEEN on the phone? And why are they so undeniably eager that others overhear their conversation?

At this moment, in cities, towns and neighborhoods across the country, someone's mother, child, friend, or spouse glances impatiently at the clock, only to have flashes of mild annoyance chill into icy pricks of worry and fear.

As a Tehilla volunteer I have been going to the airport for many years to assist new immigrants (olim) during their first hours facing real Israeli bureaucracy.

Among the many pieces of advice given to me when I first got married came from a wise family acquaintance. He said, "Always keep the phone number of your local take-out on speed dial."

Debate over Prime Minister Sharon's so-called policy of "restraint" continues to swirl. Among other things, our editorial last week expressing support for his measured responses to the escalating Palestinian terrorism drew more reaction than any Jewish Press editorial in recent memory. The letters from readers on the subject which appear this week are only a sampling of what we actually received, besides some really animated phone calls.