Anyway, I guess it's been awhile.
I'm inclined to weep for Pharoah. I picture him, teeth gnashed, sinking with the oldest grief. How could he love a God that took his child? The tragedy is not that Moses was banned from Canaan. It's Pharoah, mourning the loss of his son, while the sea folded over him.
More than anything, I am terrified. I've never felt like I've belonged anywhere the way that I belong with her.
Thought I'd let everyone know: I'm ready for it. A house with a porch, Cohen, Moose, children. I'm ready for it, whenever you're ready for it.
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