His Other Jewish Mother

When he told me that he was glad to know that he had another Jewish mother that he could rely on, I knew I was sunk. Since fantasy is all it is cracked up to be, I imagine much. It's ok now, breathe. I am on the inside track, closer than ever to the core of knowing. It is good to take risks, emotional risks, I wonder that he agrees.

Our communicator is more fluid now that I have moved away. Don't kid yourself, distance matters in these explosive times. I was thinking, what changed? He loves e-mail, being in touch, getting notes and messages in bits and time. I see now how he feels, somewhat attached. There is no medicine for this should any be sought. I can feel his caring for us, fresh like rain, fluid like a stream rushing through my mind, spilling over.

When he mentioned the vacation to Hawaii, like a good Jewish mother, I got concerned. I begged him to be sure and wear his boxers when he dances in that grass skirt of his. He reported that no, he would not be wearing boxers. I was encouraged in my anticipating, mail of some kind from his camp, I learned. He send word, Native Law states, on the matter of wearing grass skirts, boxers are prohibited. Thongs alone are permissible. To be a decent person, do I have to beg him not to send me pictures even if....?