Missing Jews (Eat your heart out John Waite)

Sitting here freezing my ass off in my sister’s basement, my mind wandered to the thought of my grandparents and great grandparents. How lucky I was as a kid to have both sets of great grandparent and both sets of grandparents around. I got so much from each of them. Particularly an eating disorder.

“Sit. Eat.” They always said.

“But Grandma, we just left Beefsteak Charlie’s,” I protested. (Of course I didn’t have the heart to mention ‘pigging out’ at the endless shrimp bar.) I was no match for her and she made a point of ignoring me.

So we ate. Again.

Now I fill that empty pit I feel in my soul with food. It’s a wonder I’m not fat.

But I’ve veered dangerously off track. The point is I miss my grandparents who gave me so much more than an eating disorder: The unconditional love I felt from each of them is something for which I still yearn.

“Missing You” by John Waite


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