Author Archives: Risa Denenberg

>Pager bleats its rising and lowering notes (de-da-do-da-de). Familiar as my name, but as I am wading from sleep to wake, I seem to think that a fire truck, siren blaring, is racing down my street. Fire? Should I wake … Continue reading →

>All of us. Each of us.With our distinct faces,Our unique thumbprints,Our own affliction. For a long timeI have collected painAnd now I don’t knowWhat to make of it. Isn’t this enough? ToEnter this world throughOur own mother’s body?But we are … Continue reading →

>I’ve been visiting her for several months, mostly working on her chronic pain. Sometimes, before a visit, I think about how hard it is to sit with her. She is really depressed. And really in pain. Some of it is … Continue reading →

> Part 1: SuicidesThere is but one truly serious philosophical problem, and that is suicide. Judging whether life is or is not worth living amounts to answering the fundamental question of philosophy. ~Albert Camus Each victim of suicide gives his … Continue reading →

> Today when I visited, I sat by her bed again, quietly, with my hand resting lightly on her thigh, hoping she would awaken, but unwilling to wake her. She looked peaceful, almost secretly cheery. I looked around the snug, … Continue reading →

> My purpose in writing this living will is to provide guidance as to my desires in the event of my illness or disability such that I become unable to manage my affairs or make known my desires and wishes … Continue reading →

> One morning many years ago while lying in bed, I felt a lump in my breast. It had not been there before, and it did not feel normal to me. I decided that it was cancer. After all, my … Continue reading →

> She enters the house on wingsaiming to land discreetlyamong the flocks of motherslovers, neighbors, sons. She carries buckets, dressings, diapers.Ready to lay bare with a soft approach.Gathering offerings, blending with soap,sips of water, quiet touch. They need knowledge of … Continue reading →

>She was 36, by far the youngest in the assisted living facility. She was everybody’s “pet” driving her motor chair in a zig-zag path down the corridor, stopping to personally greet each old woman or man along the way. I … Continue reading →