Category: Grace and Kindness

Happy Endings

September 30, 2025

Grace and Kindness

Sometimes, I will blog often. Though each entry takes me hours because I need for it to be perfect, I will occasionally tackle the challenge more than once a week if I’m in crisis or if I really need to say something. Today, both are true.

I just finished watching the television show, Mad Men. It first came out in 2007, and it was the stunning Jon Hamm’s breakout role. He was an advertising executive, and the show’s 7 seasons plunge you into the hedonistic, overindulgent, and, quite frankly, unrestrained world of advertising in the 60s. Excessive smoking, drinking, infidelity, and backstabbing (which, coincidentally, is probably also what Jay told the kids is the name of my autobiography), were all over every episode, and I won’t even begin to touch on how the show embodied the message that women should make dinner, look pretty, schedule appointments, and rarely think.

I have to say that this show was riveting. Dark yet funny, aggravating yet auspicious, realistic yet unlikely, and sexy yet repugnant, all 92 episodes, at some point, left me feeling sad, envious, unfulfilled, energized, defeated, frightened, stirred, galvanized, hopeful. The writers and the actors certainly did their jobs effectively, as one can argue for days about who, in fact, realized and reached their happy ending.

What, actually, is a happy ending? Once upon a time, it was the name of an ice cream sundae that one could get at Friendly’s. It was small, but it did the job of topping off that Fishamajig or SuperMelt with something yummy. A happy ending is also what some people get at the end of a massage, where the masseuse brings you to orgasm after putting you in a relaxed state of bliss. (Did you think every blog would be PG)? A happy ending is what we’re used to and hoping to read about in fairy tales, especially since the heroine has usually gone through the tortures of the damned before she can even think about her happy ending.

My happy ending will have the 3 who matter most, their spouses, and my grandchildren (who probably won’t be babies anymore). I, woefully, will have missed out on the “I’m pregnant!” announcements, the pregnancies, the births, the “What do I do, Mom?” and the “Did this happen to you, Mom?” The delicious scent of a newborn mixed with the intoxicating combination of Dreft, Desitin, and Johnson and Johnson Baby Shampoo will have to be a memory I pull from storage, when the 3 who matter most were small. I won’t get to play my famous “Oh, I Don’t Think So” game that elicits such giggles and squeals of joy, and the indentations on the chubby little wrists and ankles will probably have filled in.

Maybe, however, if I’m lucky, I’ll still get to give my renowned foot rides, attend sporting events, dance recitals, and school plays, cook my medicinal and traditional matzo ball soup, and embrace my religion again. Just as my 6th grade students share their weekend plans during our five-minute, end of the week, “Gibbering with Jaffe” sessions, perhaps my grandkids will tell their teacher that they’re having a sleepover at Grandma’s or that Grandma is picking them up from school to go to a Sabrina Carpenter concert. And maybe, just maybe, that Grandma will be me.

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September 23rd, 2025 -(5786)

September 24, 2025

Grace and Kindness

Today is Rosh Hashanah, the beginning of the Jewish New Year. The day marks the creation of Adam and Eve, the birthday of the universe, and a time where Jewish people, like me, reflect on the past year while simultaneously planning for the next one. We dwell on our mistakes and overstay our visit at the Hotel of Regrets and What Ifs. Many spend the day in synagogue, and some, again like me, spend the day in their own heads.

Today is also the anniversary of the day I met Jay. 42 years ago today, while I was walking to a party and Jay was in the Student Union, a mutual friend introduced us. An obvious imbalance from the genesis of our relationship, I suppose Jay’s candle of common sense and calm and my flame of fire and fun thought we just might be a match and possibly make a glow of it (see what I did there).

Jay was far more religious than I, and I think that religion was the ultimate decimator of our marriage. I resented how it was shoved down my throat instead of spoon-fed to me in appropriate portions. Always proud of my religion and glad and eager to be an active participant, I didn’t understand why I had to sell my soul for my kids to go to public school. I didn’t understand why the girls, even at the ages of 6 and 8, couldn’t wear a skirt or a dress even half of an inch above their knees. I didn’t understand why, when we were out of the house, we couldn’t eat what we wanted. But, most of all, I didn’t understand how somebody could pretend to wrap himself in the poncho of piety, when he was actually waiting in the pews to pounce and destroy.

Rabbinical sermons this holiday will, without a doubt, discuss the situation in Israel and Gaza. Israel will be the focus, along with the need for us to continue to put them at the forefront of our concerns for our heritage. I am grateful for my heritage, but, let me be clear in that, first and foremost, I am an American Jew.

On October 7th of 2023, Israel was attacked by Hamas, and they are still waiting for hostages to be returned. These young, beautiful, innocent people were merely enjoying a concert, and the revolting and monstrous murders and kidnappings were beyond the pale. Israel (finally) had the sympathy of the world, and the world saw the persecution right up close. Through the horrors came support we didn’t even know we had.

Now, Netanyahu, as he tries to stay out of jail, is annihilating Gaza. The starvation and the obliteration are NOT who we are, and we’re sadly losing the sympathy and the camaraderie that was almost groundbreaking. Hamas needs to be demolished, but we have got to get this fire under control.

The state of our country here is dire. Jimmy Kimmel being pulled off the air last Wednesday was nothing short of evil, egregious, and retaliatory. What happened to Charlie Kirk was devastating, repulsive, and sickening, and Jimmy Kimmel, like every normal human being, made that clear up front.

Charlie Kirk’s widow said that she forgives the person who shot and killed her husband. That’s an enormous gesture, and, though I’m not a scholar of Jesus by any means, I know that forgiveness was what he so often preached.

Folks, as the Jewish people usher in the New Year, 5786, let’s all show grace and love towards each other. No matter our religion, our political affiliation, our demons, our education, or even our stock portfolios, let’s pull each other up with tenderness and appreciation. As somebody who has lost everything and would relish some forgiveness herself, I know what it means to be beaten up. I know the lacerating pain of not having the 3 who matter most on Mother’s Day and birthdays and holidays, but I never let that stop me from treating others with empathy and compassion.

Shana Tova to all!

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Who I Am

January 16, 2025

Grace and Kindness

And they’re off …

My Art of Writing kids have just listened to Who I Am, by Jessica Andrews (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jd9zYKLepCw), and I’ve asked them to tell me who they are. They’re all over this assignment, and, crazy though it is, at 13 and 14, many of them know exactly who they are. I’m envious, and I’m enormously impressed.

Though they know much of who I am, they won’t know everything until they’re savvy enough or old enough to find and read this blog. They won’t know that the weight I carry is not just in this well upholstered belly, but also in this demolished heart.

I have kids in front of me who have lost parents, one from illness and two by suicide. There is a child for whom I have bought clothing. Two have recently come out as gay, and two go by different names than the names given to them by their parents. Athletes, scholars, thespians, and artists, they are bewitching.

My Gifted and Talented kids are on the S.S. ExPO Elite, appropriating the role of a famous person of their choosing. Dwayne Johnson, Benjamin Franklin, Nikola Tesla, Steve Harvey, Michael Jackson, and Michelle Obama are only 6 of the 30 folks competing to be the last person remaining on the boat, and they are fierce. They must thwart their shipmates’ attacks on their accomplishments and their character, eventually resting on their own laurels.

May these kids always be able to choose who they are and who they want to be. May they feel safe enough to explore, probe, and investigate the outside world and their inner identities. May they know that they are valued, and to that student of mine who lost her mom back in July, I see you and I know it’s your birthday today. I hope you enjoy your cupcake and gift, and don’t forget that you are strong, you are loved, and you are admired by so many.

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Leap Years and Apologies Without Caveats

December 6, 2024

Apologies Without Caveats, Barbara Starsky, Broken Heart, Forgiveness, Grace and Kindness, Healing

My mother used to say that she hated leap years, and they really made her panic. In fact, as the ball dropped to usher in 1988, her spirits did, too. Though sometimes a drama queen, she did have an uncanny sense of knowing when the stars weren’t aligned or something wasn’t kosher.

On January 8, just 8 days after that damn ball dropped, my Grandma Mollie died. She was 88, and she had lived a full, albeit difficult, life. She had five children, 10 grandchildren, a dozen of what would be 18 great grandchildren, no money, and a husband who was ill and died young. Even more remarkable, however, was that this uneducated little woman from Poland, who worked in a factory and who wore support hose before they were cool, was more insightful than those with multiple degrees.

If I’m honest, I’ll tell you that it was my Grandma Marian, my mom’s mom, who was my favorite. She and my grandpa were more fun, but they were younger, they were a couple, and they had the means to spoil us. We were also their only grandchildren.

In the wee hours of the morning on February 28th, only 7 weeks after Grandma Mollie died, Grandma Marian dropped dead of a heart attack. She was 72, and nobody expected it. Oh, sure she had been to handfuls of doctors in the months prior because she wasn’t feeling well, one of whom even told her that she was a ticking time bomb. Oh, sure her face was downright ashen and her tests came back indicative of heart disease, but, no joke, her energy, her sense of humor, and her willingness to love and forgive everybody had us all drinking the denial flavored Kool-Aid that she and my grandfather were knocking back.

2024 has been a pretty woeful and wretched leap year, especially these last few months. With the car accident, the insurance debacle, the stolen purse, and last week’s vertigo episode, I’m counting the seconds until 2025. Sure, there have been sprinkles of tinsel and dashes of glitter, and good fortune has come in the form of passport stamps, student smiles, and hugs for and from many whom I love and who have needed me as I’ve needed them. I’ve even somehow mustered up the courage to see pictures of my children and all of their sweethearts. I didn’t think my fractured heart could handle it, but, oddly enough, seeing them healthy and happy was reassuring and reposeful. I am their mother, after all, and nothing will ever change that.

As this year comes to an end, may we all hold onto hope. May we take a step back and not have to be in the center. May we apologize without caveats, and may we understand, appreciate, and thank G-d that we don’t know and so often can’t relate to what another person is going through. Believe me, the person going through it wishes she wasn’t going through it, either.

Wishing you all grace, love, and light in the coming NON-LEAP year.

Marla

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Vera Bradley Bag

July 29, 2024

Grace and Kindness

Dear Emma and Gorgeous Girl,

Before I begin, I must explain why I am not referring to you, Emma’s beautiful sister, by name. I don’t know your name, baby, so please forgive me.

Girls, tucked into a special box that I have for you, is my purple Vera Bradley bag, all washed and folded. I only recently retired it, and I’d like to tell you about it. The Language Arts teacher in me wants to tell you that it symbolizes incomparable strength, warrior spirit, and irreplicable grace (but not mine).

By the time you can read this and fully understand it, I’m sure you will know about your mom’s surgeries. You’ll have heard it from her, and, when it’s time, you can read about it on the blog that I wrote throughout her heroic journey. It’s important that you know how much she went through, how courageous and valiant she has always been, and how her body both endured torture AND created miracles.

Your mom had her own Vera Bradley bag that was all-too-often packed for her hospital stays. What should have only been a bag for fun overnights with friends or with your dad turned into luggage for surgeries, blockages, and never knowing what was ahead. From high school to college to P.A. school, that bag traveled to St. Barnabas, Morristown, and, most often, Mount Sinai.

Not too long after your mom’s first hospital stay, I got my own Vera Bradley bag. Sadly, I needed my own hospital bag, so I thought, “Why not ‘sort of’ match Roo’s bag?” Easy to carry and colorful and festive, those bags got way too much use.

Girls, you are marvels in so many ways, including that your mom was able to carry you and bring you safely into the world. She and your dad were able to create you through love, through hope, through faith (your mom’s middle name, which I had no idea would serve her so well), and through science. Part of the wonder of this world is that there are methods and processes where a woman can experience pregnancy and experience her yearnings become reality. May it remain that way, for the both of you, for your cousins, and for every woman who deserves her choice and her voice.

So, sweet girls, what seems like just a two decades old, slightly faded, and somewhat worn-out duffle is really so much more. It’s proof that when resilience, sturdiness, and hardiness meet fragility, magic happens.

I love you both so very much,

Grandma

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The Lottery

March 27, 2024

A Mom Without Her Kids, Abandonment, Barbara Starsky, Broken Heart, Forgiveness, Grace and Kindness, Healing, marissasurgery.wordpress.com, Parental Alienation, Tragic Divorce

The Powerball and the Mega Millions, as of last night, were collectively worth over 2 billion dollars. Chances of winning one of these jackpots were 1 in 300 million, but somebody did win. Somebody in New Jersey actually won, but people haven’t even checked their tickets yet and nobody even knows where the ticket was sold. Could it have been me?

The odds of what happened to me, in terms of losing my kids, were greater than 1 in 300 million. People are convicted of murder, corruption, extortion, drug dealing, sex trafficking, embezzlement, robbery, and many other heinous crimes, yet their kids still talk to them. I didn’t do any of those things (though Jay probably told them I multitasked and did every one of them on a weekly basis), and I have been given a lifelong sentence of suffering and agony that mutilates and incapacitates my entire stamp.

My mother abandoned me when all of the vicissitude began, so afraid of being jettisoned herself. But, one of the last things she said to me was, “Any other family … If it was any other family, this would never have happened.” Though seemingly ambiguous, I somewhat understood what she was saying. My sister threatened her, controlled her, scared her, and basically ordered my mother to have nothing to do with me. The once powerful and independent Barbara Starsky became a pathetic pawn on my sister’s toxic and monochromatic black chessboard.

My mother had also twice mentioned, “Even a criminal would have been pardoned by now.” She knew how deeply I was hurting, and I don’t think she ever fully understood (who can?) why I was eliminated from the hearts of the kids I loved and still love so completely. She was a coward, and, whether her hand was forced or not, she did make a choice – Sophie’s Choice.

After Zack left me so suddenly, my mom reached out to him. Always the softest of my 3, his behavior puzzled her the most. Aware that Jay’s attorney had told my attorney that my divorce wasn’t progressing because Zack still talked to me, and recognizing that Jay’s lawyer confidently and contemptuously added, “But it won’t be for too much longer,” my mother did, supposedly, reach out to Zack. And, after he did abruptly discard me and she did call him, her words to me were, “I swear to G-d, he has been brainwashed.” (I would sit for a polygraph to attest to the validity of this conversation and the words that still permeate and pierce my vandalized heart).

What will they tell my grandchildren? Will they say I’m dead (easily disproven, thank G-d). Will they say I’m crazy and that I’m away in some sort of facility (easily disproven, thank G-d). Will they say I’m in prison (I guess I am in some sort of proverbial prison).

What won’t they tell my grandchildren? They probably won’t tell them that I’m a respected and beloved teacher. They probably won’t tell them that I am funny, kind, benevolent, charitable, concerned, and so deeply passionate and compassionate. They probably won’t tell them that, when they were growing up, my talons would automatically sharpen if anybody or anything ever hurt them. They probably won’t tell them that, when they were sick, I was always there, never letting them be alone and scared. They probably won’t tell them that I called them my heart, my soul, and my lungs. They probably won’t tell them that I loved them so much that I stayed in a marriage that didn’t make me happy. And, they probably won’t tell them that I loved them more than I loved myself. I still do.

May we all win the lottery, whatever the lottery looks like to us. Whether it’s the Powerball, the Mega Millions, or our children and grandchildren’s presence in our lives, may that winning ticket be in our reach.

Marla

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Letter to My Lawyer, 8 Years Later

October 4, 2023

Grace and Kindness

John,

You probably know more than most what Jay has done to me. I am so broken and so damaged, and my heart is completely lacerated. While I am blessed with a job that I love and friends who are my sisters and my lifelines, the truth is that my trauma, my PTSD, and my fear of abandonment are suffocating. Remarkably, I still show up to life each day with energy, with empathy, and with a commitment to bringing joy and laughter to those around me.

John, I learned about my first grandchild through a friend with a big mouth and an inappropriate sense of what to say and what not to say. Knowledge of my second grandchild was presented to me in my mother’s obituary. When Mount Sinai’s Collections Department called me in February about my unpaid balance from Marissa’s hospital visit last October, I subsequently learned about the birth of my third grandchild. I don’t even know her name, and I only know it’s a she because the office manager at my ophthalmologist mentioned my “3 granddaughters.”

Unconditional love is wanting your children to be happy, even when you can’t be a participant in their happiness. Unconditional love is when your heart stops when you learn that something might be wrong with a person, even when that person has shown such hateful and malicious behavior towards you. My unconditional love for my children is what I would like my grandchildren to uncover one day, and, should that happen, may I still be spirited, lucid, and zestful.

John, Jay has been terrorizing me for decades, and he continues to do so, even after the divorce. He has more than once messed with and lied about the bonus check due me, and now, here we go again with the alimony payment. I know I messed up his plans and hopes for me in that I am still very much alive and not institutionalized, but his attempts do completely deflate me. His attempts take over my days, and, while others would not let these “whacks” determine their daily tenor, the scars are just so deep for me and I can’t help but tremble and perseverate. I mean, I have my lawyer on retainer 8 years after my divorce was finalized. That speaks volumes.

John, I will be going to the bank on my break today at 11. I will, once again, inquire as to what is going on. I need that money. I want that money. I deserve that money. And, we need to figure this out so that it NEVER happens again. It’s just not fair to me, and I’m begging you for some resolution today.

Forever grateful,

Marla

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Today’s Thoughts

March 10, 2023

Grace and Kindness

The kids won the Advisory door contest, and they were just treated to a bagel breakfast. Our door boasted the subject of Empathy, which is the E in our R.E.A.C.H. acronym that awarded us our School of Character recognition. The Tinman from The Wizard of Oz sits proudly on our door, welcoming all to “share their heart.”

The cafeteria was bustling with the 6th grade door winners, the 7th grade door winners, and our 8th grade door winners. One 7th grader was sitting by himself, so another teacher and I went to spend some time with him. Though the student wasn’t interested in chatting with us, I think he did take comfort in the company. The other teacher and I, however, yucked it up plenty.

Nancy is a retired teacher who came back to long-term sub. A lifelong resident of Denville, her entire family basically lives on her street in the Cedar Lake community. She has her parents, who are in their late 80s and still super active, her brother, one of her daughters, and her niece, all within walking distance. Her other daughter lives in Savannah, and she is expecting her third child in as many years.

Nancy is divorced, but she does have a new boyfriend. She has about 6 years on me, and she, too, is very active. An avid skier, she is fastidious in everything she does. Though an acquired taste, she has all kids’ best interests at heart.

I’m jealous of her family. I’m jealous that everybody is right here. I’m jealous that she has a family. I’m jealous that she has her children and her grandchildren in her life. (As I write this, I become hyper aware that everybody has their children and grandchildren in their lives). My situation is one in a million, and, as everybody around me right now is watching their family expand, I have no family. Yes, I am blessed with friends whom I call family, but they’re not family.

The days become more difficult, but they’re at least filled with the melodious tones of middle school children finding their way in the world. They’re asking questions on the collected achievements of the human race, especially my Gifted and Talented kids, and they’re hanging on my every word. They’re laughing at my jokes, absorbing my energy, and, unbeknownst to them, helping me draw breath.

The nights are unbearable, especially when I’m alone. If I’m not on the phone or texting with Bob, nobody calls or texts. I know that if I send an SOS, people would come, but I don’t like to bother anybody. Instead, I’ll do my schoolwork, watch General Hospital, pop a xanax, and somehow sleep until the alarm goes off.

I wake up and wonder how I got here, how my entire family abandoned me, how I’ll go on. At 57, my thoughts sometimes leave me puzzled and confused about what will happen to me when I get older. Who will be here to take care of me if I can’t take care of myself?

I want to tell my story, from the sick baby that I was to the rejected adult I now am. I want to share my rape, my abortions, the nicknames that still taunt me, my PTSD, my divorce details. I want to share the gaslighting, but I don’t. I don’t because I don’t want my kids to be hurt, and I don’t because I need and love my job. The perks of teaching are countless, but there are some downsides, one of which is being so vulnerable to exposure.

And so, I’ll sit here smiling, somehow trying to believe, as Anne Frank said, that “people are really good at heart.” I’ll put positive energy out into the universe, and I’ll wait patiently for answers. Bob says life is a marathon and not a sprint, so I’ll stay the course and pray there is a grandchild waiting for me at the finish line.

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I knew it. I predicted it.

January 28, 2022

Grace and Kindness

Today, I was trying to find a puzzle from my February issue of Games Magazine. In the search bar for my inbox, I typed, “Games Mag.” Believe it or not, this popped up. This was a letter to my first lawyer, written only days after the divorce filing. I knew it. I predicted it.

Mon, Jul 8, 2013 at 7:02 AM

Betsy,

I am in a really bad place, and thoughts are running through my head that are frightening me. I feel like I am losing my children, and I feel like they don’t love me. Betsy, I told you I don’t do many things well except for being a terrific mom and a terrific teacher. If either one of those is compromised, especially my role as a mother, I can’t function.

I am letting Jay play head games with me, Betsy, and he is winning. You will see that, by the time all is said and done, my kids will go and live with him. This is my biggest fear, and this is what has kept me in this toxic relationship for so long. I was out of the house at 5 o’clock this morning walking the oval, and I am doing my best to stay sane. I have a call into my therapist, so hopefully he can work his magic.

I do not know where one gets the strength for this, and the fact that the letter from his attorney was delivered on Saturday morning to my son who answered the door is indicative of everything here. What I did figure out, Betsy, because I am a smart girl, is that the lawyer wants him to get this line of credit for Rebecca’s college tuition so that he and I will be splitting it in half instead of him paying the much larger portion, per his salary. Since his plans are to sell the house immediately by the end of August, and it takes 30 to 45 days for a line of credit to be approved, the answer became obvious to me as to what he is trying to do. Let me stress again to you, that I am probably one of the brightest women you will ever meet, but when it comes to my three Achilles’ heels, named Marissa, Rebecca, and Zachary, he will do his darndest to get me at my three spots of vulnerability.

The only thing that matters to me in my life is my 3 children. I feel like I am losing them. Betsy, can we get this to happen as fast as possible before it kills me?

Thanks,
Marla

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Tough Day

January 9, 2022

Grace and Kindness

I knew today would be heavy, but I didn’t know how heavy. Bearing in mind that I am finishing up my COVID recovery and coming off of my 10 days in quarantine and isolation, my heart was already lonely. Adding my tragic situation into the picture was actually insufferable, and I woke up to an agonizing darkness and fragility.

But, the love and the surprises abounded. From bagels and lox to birthday cakes, and from flowers to phone calls from friends, who are really my “sisters,” I managed to get my fat tushy up to shower and face the day. I even put on one of the sweatshirts we gave away at Zack’s Bar Mitzvah.

I must, yet again, share the magic of J.K.:

Sweeeeet Marla!!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!

Oh the JOY ….

that YOU BRING …

To our ✨💛🌎💛✨!!!!

You know I’ve been thinking of you….

Today …it’s a workout for you….

Undoubtedly …your family will be thinking of you….

It’s a strong link day.

A day where your work is to keep your energy in LOVE …and

FAITH…

In the MYSTERIES of GODs Plan

(the Universe, Karma….)

So much/ ALLL of my thoughts on such things

Have been growing over time of contemplating the view of the universe as timeless connections …as the Buddhists see …(and the mystic ancient Jewish folk did too) …

That our souls journey is rippled and interwoven over time of many lives.

It has lead me to ….

A place of always holding a truth in my heart beyond understanding with the literal fact based, reason based mind….

That…

ALLLL SOULS…

ALLLL EXPERIENCES….

Are showing up for us out of LOVE….

To help us shed the non-essential …

So we can LEARN, CHANGE …become more LOVE.

A huge part of this is deep FORGIVENESS.

Which doesn’t have to be a long drawn out thing…

It’s an instant decision in the heart.

With no guilt.

Just a dropping and…

A decision.

Today.

May you use your mind and heart

To hold a true and deep secret smile.

Trusting the mysterious path…

That in this lifetime

You are MARCHING TOWARD your Reunion.

And the LOVE will be DIFFERENT Feeling.

So much BETTER, EASIER, PEACEFUL.

It takes PATIENCE, and FAITH.

But your BELOVED, MAGICAL SPIRIT …

Are STRONG!!!

And WILLING!!!

I hope you can track my Love for you through this…

Forgive ME …if I have overstepped, or rubbed wrongly in any way..

All this comes from deep in my heart…

And my FAITH …in YOU!!!!

Your AMAZINGN HEART!!!

Today:

May you BE PRESENT.

LOVING …all the gifts of LIFE and LOVE that ARE AROUND YOU….

That energy of GRATITUTE, WISDOM, EASE …that LOVE ENERGY…

It WILLLLLLLL SOFTEN YOUR FAMILY.

Because we ARE CONNECTED….

✨💛🌟🌌🌟💛✨!!!!!

I

LOVE

YOU

!!!!!!!

To all of you who have been a part of this journey with me, thank you for your words of love and loyalty today and every day.

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