Thursday, January 5, 2017
Here I am, stuck in a small room with needles in my foot wondering how I got here. Well, it all started with Brocha. Brocha and I have been friends since first grade and for the most part of the last 36 years, we have been best friends. Brocha is built like a gazelle. She is tall and thin and very graceful. She is the type of person who has no clue how amazing she is, but her friends all know. She is loyal and kind and very giving. Brocha called me one day asking me if it would be ok if she ran the Miami Half Marathon to help out with our medical expenses. A thought ran through my head (so fast it was barely recognizable as a thought), wouldn't it be amazing if I could do that too? But I'm not built like Brocha and I am so frozen in my fear that there is no way I can do that. Well that year team Run4Yitzi began and raised $10,000. The next year the team grew and they raised $20,000. From the day of the marathon, I started dreaming of crossing that finish line. This time really thinking about it. Can you imagine being so free you can just run? It became a sort of obsession in my thoughts. But I developed a foot problem so I had to wait until it got better to start running. I spoke in length to Brocha, about all the reasons I really need to do this. We decided to try and raise $50,000 this year. Both of these goals are very lofty. Me running and $50,000. The team kept on growing and the people running are really amazing. Some have been lifelong friends and some we have never met. Well, a few weeks into the training said foot problem came back with a vengeance. I tried to ignore it but that created other problems. I found a Dr. who practices a few forms of Chinese medicine and said he could help me avoid surgery but it will take three weeks and I have to be off my foot. Um, hello? Have you seen my life? But I really want to do the run so I agree. So here I am sitting in what I refer to as the Chinese torture chamber contemplating the meaning of pain. This pain is necessary to get better but my reaction to pain is what I am trying to analyze. Why are we afraid of pain? I try to avoid it at all costs. It creates a panic and I have to remember my hypno birthing visualizations and breathing . And on top of all that, I try to hide it from the Dr. as if it's a bad thing to have any reaction to pain. He knows it's killing, I know it's killing, so why am I so afraid to show any reaction? I try to remember a Dvar Torah Yitzi wrote about pain being part of the plan. So I'm saying to myself, it's part of the plan, it's part of the plan.... But then, "OH MY GOODNESS, CHANGE THE DARN PLAN!!" It is curious to me that a foot can occupy an entire head. I try to just sit in the pain, actually, that's exactly what I am doing, yet I imagine I am anywhere else but here. I think of all the times I have been in pain and how each time it was different. Having babies, going to the dentist, headaches, heartaches. When Yitzi first got sick, I welcomed physical pain. It was such a nice break from what was going on in my heart. But it's been years now, and I believe people who have constant pain get worn down, and any other pain is too much. I try to find a ray of sunlight in this situation, but I'm coming up empty. I know it's just a foot, but let's be honest, who has time for this? He says it's getting better but I can't tell. By now it's been almost two months and it's time to face the facts. I will not be able to run this year. More then feeling slightly dumb for having to go back on my word, I am sad that I won't be running with this amazing team. I am still hoping to avoid surgery, and to fix the problem, but it won't be on time for this year's marathon. The goal of the marathon is the same, to help raise money for the many medical expenses we have. If you haven't yet, please contribute to this run. Thank you and I hope to start training the minute the Dr. says I'm good on my feet.
Wednesday, November 30, 2016
I wake up in the morning and stare at my reflection and wonder how well can I hide it all today. Somewhat expertly I apply the mask of the day. It's my war paints and I can't go out without it. It hides the lack of sleep and the sadness, the pale cheeks, and the fact that I am getting older. It makes me feel stronger. I am playing the part of a women who has it all together. Get dressed, put on whatever costume I feel I need that day. The days that are ok, the mask is less intricate. It's really myself that I am trying to convince. Get up, get the kids up, breakfast, lunch, take them to school..... You know, like all mothers do. If I look the part, maybe I can play the part. Just keep going, and don't stop long enough to think. But somedays, the memories slip out of my eyes and down my cheeks. They wash away the war paints and I'm stuck staring reality in the face. Its not nearly as ok as I seem. Most of the time I fight that. G-D forbid should we be sad, let G-D down, let my family down, let myself down, let you down. But sometimes I am too tired to fight and my masks are not working. Sometimes it's ok to not be ok. But tomorrow I will probably buy new lipstick and see if that fixes it all.
Tuesday, November 8, 2016
Let's imagine for a minute that G-D took our hand in His and said "I have a job for you. It's going to be a hard one but I know you can do it. Your path will be full of heartbreak and difficulties, yet you will be able to help and comfort many. When it's time I will show you how important it was and how necessary you are, but until then, although you will comfort many, none will comfort you."
Would you take the job? I know I would without hesitation, yet without that conversation, I am having a hell of a time with all this. This is probably true for most of us. Our challenges are straight from G-D, and we know He is good and kind and the only reason he would put coal through the fire is to make a diamond. Our souls were each told something like this on their way down, and we really have no say in that part of the deal. The part we do have a say in, is what we do with it. The founder of the Chassidik movement, the Baal Shem Tov, taught us that a soul comes into this world for 70 or 80 years just to do a favor for another. Can you imagine if we measured our success by that? Not fame or fortune, but a kind and generous heart. A person willing to forgo their personal comfort to help another. A person willing to approach another in need, and offer assistance. Let's get really uncomfortable. Let's say, my journey is hard and I know how that feels, maybe I can make someone else's easier. Along the way, that might bring you some satisfaction and will most definitely be more purposeful. For myself, I have noticed that I am occasionally able to help people and to comfort them. Let them know they are not alone in this great big world. Yet I feel very alone. At night I am alone. In actuality and in my mind. It's painful and harsh and the worst part is also the best part. Yitzi. He healed my heart and now because of him it is broken. He taught me how to love and how to be loved. How to forgive and how to love life. The whole house revolves around him, yet he has never even seen my room. At night, it's me and my memories and conversations with G-D.
Saturday, October 1, 2016
I love honesty, and I try to be as honest as possible in my life. This means in all of my relationships. My relationship with G-D, with people, and with myself. For most of my life this has done me alright. I am not a good pretender and there are many times we need to act certain ways and we don't always feel like it. Some people have no problem doing that, I do. You can usually see it on my face and to me that is a little invasive. I don't even write lol unless I have actually laughed out loud. I'm more a smile in my head type but there is no abbreviation for that yet. (So I'm sure you can imagine how the election is bothering me.) But for the most part I think honesty is a good thing. Perhaps it is most challenging to be honest with ourselves. To recognize uncomfortable thoughts, emotions, and even actions. I try hard to be thankful for all that I have and to stay in a positive frame of mind, and often that works. But sometimes something hits and it hits hard. Usually it's a little thing that reminds me of the way things were and it catches me off guard. The big things I try to prepare for, but the little things are things we notice in everyday life that most people take for granted, and they just sneak up on us. Then once I am longing for what we once were, it opens the door to all we have lost. Often I admonish myself and remind myself of what we still have, but let's be honest. We have lost plenty. It has been three years since I heard my husband's voice, him sing, talk, daven, whisper. It's been two years since we have shared a room, since a nurse (stranger) is in our home, at his side, hopefully 24/7. It's been four years since we realized something is wrong and since I have taken a deep breath. It's been three since we could just go somewhere together without endless preparation. It's been a long time since I have seen Yitzi play with the kids like he used to. The youngest does not even remember what a good father he was. He may be lucky, he doesn't feel the loss as much. I miss the way he laughed, and smelled, and sounded, and how his leg would move when he was concentrating, and his eyebrows would raise when he liked the food, and how he loved me and the kids. I miss how he looked like a prince in his hat and long jacket, how standing next to him made me feel like a princess. I miss yelling at him. I miss hearing him snore. I miss dreaming of what we will do when the kids move out. I miss our little Chabad house but not nearly as much as our community and friends. I miss being who I was and not needing to be brave all of the time. I miss the simplicity of our lives and the innocence of our children. We have lost so much and yet we still have so much. One does not negate the other. Focusing on the positive does not mean the rest miraculously disappears. Every so often it's ok to recognize that loss and maybe cry for a day or two. There is no comfort for that. It's just gone. The fact that Yitzi was the way he was with all of that talent and love and joy, makes the fact that he cannot do most things so much more painful.
It is now two years since Yitzi had a tracheotomy. Two years since he was given a new lease on life. They have been hard years but this year was a bit easier then last year. Still way harder then before. In all honesty, I am grateful for every second with Yitzi and I appreciate all we still have and all of the people who add to our lives. I also intensely miss what we had before. I am glad this year is over, it's been long enough and I look forward to a better year. Not just better then the last two years but really good. A year of good health and miracles. A year of deep breaths and restful nights. A year of revealed good, not trying hard to see how something can be good. A year of Nachas from our children. A year where we don't have to be brave and strong. A year where we all have time to smell the flowers and feel the wind and stand in a waterfall.
Wednesday, September 28, 2016
We have a teaching from the Alter Rebbe, telling us that the King (G-D) is in the field. In the month of Elul, before the Jewish new year approaches, G-D is traveling the country side and we can go and meet Him in the field. When G-D will see us, He will greet us with a smile (showing us that he loves us). All year long if we want to see the king, He is in His palace and for most of us regular people, it is nearly impossible to get an audience. But now The King is accessible to all.
In my mind, a field is where you can feel a connection with G-D. At this time of year, the harvest is done and the possibilities of what you can do with that field are endless. It is you, your potential, maybe even your vulnerabilities, and your connection with G-D. For each person that field may be different. But the thing that is the same is that if you make an effort to connect with G-D, you will be greeted with love.
There is a story about a young girl that would leave school before morning prayers and come back after prayers. One day her grandfather followed her and watched her go to the forest and pray there. He asked her,"Why do you come here to pray? Don't you know G-D is the same everywhere?" She answer him that although she knows G-D is the same everywhere, SHE is not the same everywhere. This is her field, the place where she feels a stronger connection to G-D. Most of us have felt moved by being in a certain environment, yet we know that G-D is always connected to us the same way, so why is it that sometimes we feel closer then other times? The deepest part of a person is their soul, and that is an actual part of G-D, right inside us, our most essential part. When we feel disconnected from G-d we are really feeling disconnected from ourselves, the deepest, purest, holiest part of ourselves. At this time of the year, Hashem tells us it's time to remember who you are. Go to that field, where you can see your dreams, your potential, and your possibilities, and there you will not only find G-D, you will find that He was with you all the time, you were just too caught up in other things to notice. We have a few days left of this month, and although the King will be going back to His palace, if you meet Him in the field, you will realize that not only is He with you always, you are with Him always, even in the palace, for you are his child as well and a child can always have access to their father.
Sunday, September 18, 2016
Here we are once again, preparing for the new year, and assessing the last year. It's been different, but mostly not as hard as the year before. I suppose we are all trying to find our place in the world and that journey never ends. As soon as we feel comfortable, things change and we need to adapt once again. It's much easier if you are not holding on for dear life to what you wanted, and are ok to ride the waves and see where they take you. Yet human nature is that we want to dream and make plans according to how we imagine our lives, and we are not necessarily good at being the passive passenger. What is also difficult is adjusting to a new direction. Clearly our destination has always been up to G-D, and we all aspire to be His partner in our part of this mysterious, yet purposeful plan. We hope to leave this world a better place then how we found it, we hope to do as much good as we can, and we plan according to our dreams, our strength, and our passions. The journey itself is where things get confusing. On a regular journey, the destination is the main focus. On this journey of life, the journey itself is of so much importance second only to the purpose of the journey. We imagine our lives from the time we are so young. What we want to be, who we want to marry, how we wish to live, what our families will be like and so much more. I am one of the lucky ones, who married the man of my dreams, had the job I always wanted, a wonderful family and so many incredible friends. Yet I find it difficult to adjust my dreams to my current situation. I still have all that I ever wanted, yet the journey has changed paths drastically. We are still moving in the direction we always were, yet everything is different. It has taken a while to adjust and perhaps we never fully do. As stubborn as I am, I refused to accept that this reality is ours for the long haul. That refusal allowed me to constantly imagine a miracle and things going back to "normal" yet prevented me from using this challenge in the way that Yitzi does, as a platform to reach those in a similar situation. He was the Chabad Emissary in Temecula and now he is the Emissary to the many people of the world trying to live with the challenges G-D has given them. If the cost wasn't so high I would say he has been given a promotion. I don't think I will ever achieve the level of peace that he has, yet it's time to stop dreaming and get to work. Since Yitzi got sick I have had the pleasure of sharing our story and lessons we have learned with many people around the world. It is my way of finding purpose in our challenge. I never expected or wanted to be a speaker. I am shy and private and this is so far from my comfort zone, I can barely wave to it from here. Yet here I am. I have found a way to make my husband proud, bring comfort to people and help support my family at the same time. In order to do this I had to first speak to my children, who will be without me while I am gone, and see what they feel about it. Right now they are all excited about it. They think it's pretty cool that I can do it and important enough that they will do without me during those times. Just to put that in perspective, that means the one parent who takes care of them will not be around. That is not a decision I take lightly, nor do they. That is their way of giving from themselves to you. One of my sons said to me, "I feel like we lost a father and the world got a hero. Yet we need a father and the world needs a hero". My children are smart and brave and strong and hurting and still willing to give more. Clearly they take after their father.
Right now I am on my way to Miami. I look forward to meeting new people and seeing new places and then going home to my family. Aside for the holidays, I will be away just about every other weekend for the next several months. I am very excited to begin this next phase and I am so grateful to have the family and friends I do. So many people have stepped in to help at home while I am away. There are plans for every 'what if' situation I can imagine, and believe me, I have a good imagination. Without our friends, none of the life we have would be possible. Whatever Yitzi and I can do positive at this time is only because of you and the kindness you have shown us. May Hashem bless you with a sweet year and may He show you kindness in every part of your lives.
Thursday, August 11, 2016
Reflections from my trip to Israel
I just returned from a very special trip with my 12 year old daughter to Israel. For those of you with more then one child, you know it's highly unusual to spend so much time with one child. We did some touring, visiting holy sites, workshops and just relaxing in Jerusalem. We bumped into many friends and made a whole lot more friends as well. We got to meet some of my mother's new family, which was really nice, and I introduced Chava to quite a few great aunts, uncles, and cousins too. Israel is a unique experience. It seems like there are equal amounts of tourists and Israelis. You see the same people over and over again. The tourists are all so excited to be there and share their experiences with other tourists. The locals are different. They have made great sacrifice to live in our homeland. They have lost friends and family, yet they have not lost hope or the ability to love. They are my heroes, and I pray daily for their safety and well being.
There were a few things that took me by surprise. First of all, I don't love food as much as I used to. It doesn't bring me comfort and I can eat at the same place every day and not care. It's just food. This is good and bad news. Good because if it doesn't matter, then eating healthy should not be hard. Bad because I think it's important to have things that bring us comfort, and whether it's a chocolate or a friend, when something brings you comfort you should hold on to it for dear life. Jerusalem is a comfort to me. I can sit by the Kotel all day. I don't have to say anything, yet being there comforts me. G-D is silent, my husband is silent, and I can sit here silently too. Maybe if I sit long enough I will be able to hear something.
While going to pray at Kever Rochel (grave of our matriarch Rachel) and the cave of the doubles in Chevron, where the rest of our Matriarchs, Patriarchs and Adam and Chava are buried, I found myself dry. Nothing like the last time I was there with Yitzi at the beginning of his sickness. It's not that I don't care as much, or don't believe as much, and I can't be sure what it is but of course I have my theories. We have to survive, and in order to do that, we have to find ways to be ok with our lives. It's hard to live in the past or in a hopeful future, when we are very much in the present. It takes a whole lot of energy to be here. There is a conscious effort to not spend a whole lot of time remembering how good it was and how good it will hopefully be again. It would be too easy to get lost there and be shocked all over again once our eyes are open. So we find ways to be ok and this becomes our normal. We look for the good within our situation and try to focus on that. There is also a possibility that praying for the same thing for the last 3 1/2 years, looses some of its intensity. Yet we daven every day for Moshiach and believe he will come each and every day. So this theory is not as strong as the first one. Whatever the case may be, there were two times when we could not hold back our emotions. We went through the Arab quarter and came to some steps where we could see Har Habayit, the Temple Mount. Only Muslims are allowed there and there are cops making sure of that. My soul has never been so angry before. The longing to be at the holiest site and the fact that we cannot go, was so unbearable. I just stared and cried. To be so close and so far. To be staring at exile in the face while watching those who have no business there, free to come and go as they please. It was a very new sensation for me, and in the days before the 9th of AV, an appropriate one.
The second time was when we went to visit the grave of Chaya Spalter. She is buried on Mt. Olives and has the most magnificent view. There is nothing natural about praying at the grave of a child, and not just any child, our very special friend and neighbor.
My daughter has been telling me every day for the last seven months that she needs to go to Israel. When I asked her where she needs to go there, she told me only two places. The Kotel (western wall) and to visit Chaya Spalter. I asked her what she wanted to say and she told me its private, but that she said what she needed to.
Even though we have figured out a way to survive in our lives, it's good to have reminders that this is not an acceptable way to live. It can and will be so much better. We need to remember daily that as free as we are, we cannot walk up a few steps in our own land. We are still burying children and many others far too early, and that is unacceptable. This world is surviving, but compared to what it could be, we are barely living. I suppose I'm glad for the reminders. This is not nearly enough, we need so much more.