I am not the plus one. I’m the only one. (Originally published at The Ethel/AARP) A holiday that speaks directly to me is National Singles Day, on Sept. 22. At 66, without an ex-husband, or even a deceased one to memorialize, I’ve flown through life solo. …

I haven’t lived life looking into the mirror much — usually just a passing glance now and then and then a more careful study when I’m trying on clothing to see what fits well together. That’s when I use the full-length mirror. As I mostly don’t wear any makeup only…

What I discovered stunned me. (Originally published in The Ethel from AARP) I’m trying. I’m not giving up. I know I’m on Medicare (just joined) and closer to my death than my birth. I’ve spent more time living alone than being with someone. But I’m working on it. I’m working…

My 98-year-old mother wrote this. She has experienced a lot. (Originally published in The Village Sun) Recently I woke up to see on a family thread a prose poem written by my 98-year-old mother. She lives alone in a small home in Florida. I was familiar with what she was…

At 66 Coming to Terms with Embracing the New Me On March 16th, 2020 I went undercover. Coronavirus was unleashed and New York City was struck down by it. Most businesses came to a halt. Several retail stores boarded up their windows and the streets were like a ghost town…

Five Steps That Can Help Lead You To Forgiveness “Look at your stomach and your big ass,” my mother said with disgust, pointing at my belly. That hit me right on. Here comes another. “Who would ever want to marry you?” Is she done? I wanted to flee. Oh no, she’s got help. “Look, it’s Shamu. Shamu, the whale,”…

As I was about to embark on a trip around Europe by myself for the summer after I graduated, a girlfriend told me, “Gila, wherever you go if you need anything find the local synagogue.” (Originally published in Jewish Journal) Back in the 70s when I was a hippie art…

Anti-vaxxers and anti-maskers, is this working for you? “The hospital is running out of oxygen. They have to intubate him.” This was the third call I received. On the first call, I heard that he and his wife were in the hospital. …

It took leaving New York to realize I was a minority and discover and treasure my heritage. “Mom, can you get me a visa, too? I would love to go to Russia with you and Dad.” The connection was filled with static. “Mom, can you hear me?” I heard a…