It’s about starting over . com

Yesterday in one of my classes, the teacher was taking attendance and he called the name of a guy named Liad (in Hebrew, it means “next to”). One of the students pointed out that he was the kid who recently died. The story is that (he’s not really a kid) Liad set out on his way to propose marriage to his girlfriend and got into a car accident that he didn’t make it out of. I think he was in his early twenties.

The energy level of the entire class dropped as if a collective “oh” of realization had been sighed–the teacher remained poised with his pen hovering over that place in the attendance sheet where Liad’s name was printed. Without looking up he said, “I can’t cross it off.” I told him to mark him as here because he most definitely was with us at that moment. Evidently someone in the main office felt the same way and that’s why Liad’s name still appears on our attendance printouts.

The attendance roster of life

How much time has to go by before we erase the memory of those who have passed on before us? I guess that depends on their closeness to us, or on the profundity of their passing. Who among those alive at the time will ever forget the death of John Kennedy? I’ll remember Liad because of that moment in our class.

Four years since…what?

On December 9th, I auditioned to attend The Berklee College of Music. I think that this is one of my more important milestones and the results will substantially influence the direction my life will take over the coming years. So it comes as no surprise that Continue Reading »

I recently heard that a member of our local folk community is seriously ill to the point where she needs personal care in hospital. Though I don’t know her well, she is someone who has always impressed me as being one of the kindest souls, a deeply beautiful person. Certainly not someone who deserves to suffer. Before I continue, let me say that I pray for her full and speedy recovery–she deserves that and so much more.

No, I’m not one of those people who believes that no one deserves to suffer. The news of her illness touched me deeply and painfully. It got me thinking about justice, about the concept of a righteous G-d, the idea of heaven and hell and that question that some of us so frequently lament: Why do bad things happen to good people?

Empathy and understanding

I wrote to a close friend of this woman, expressing empathy for the sorrow and pain I know they must both be feeling right now. She wrote back saying that I, “…of all people, can understand these deeply painful, long-term sicknesses that “life” puts on our plate to help us in our spiritual and moral growth…………..”

The truth is that I don’t understand. I don’t understand and it makes me angry when kind, wonderful people like this woman end up ill and suffering. It isn’t fair, not on any level. So, is there fairness in this world and this life? Did someone or some entity promise us at some point that, as long as we are good, we’ll be treated fairly?

Epiphany

This calls to mind a conversation I had with someone at Jacob’s Ladder about two years ago. A stranger to me, she introduced herself saying that she had heard about me Continue Reading »

Last night, a good friend, Yitz Hochstein, died. He wasn’t much older than I, but it wasn’t a shock–his health had been deteriorating for a while.

Yitz was known among our local folk music community as one of our banjo players. His smiling face could be seen at almost all of our folk-music events and he was always supportive and encouraging. He loved food and cooking–if you were one of the lucky ones, you would be invited to the Hochstein’s for lunch or dinner where there would inevitably be five or six different main courses from which you could choose, each one delicious. Chinese cooking was his amazing specialty, and don’t even ask about Thanksgiving!

I first met Chana and Yitz when I moved with my then 12 and 14-year old sons to Ashdod. I had just separated from my then husband, was in dire financial shape, and was looking forward to beginning a brand-new life. Two months later, I was diagnosed with breast cancer and as soon as the Hochsteins heard about it, they came knocking on my door, bringing beautifully cooked meals from the community along with unwavering friendship and support. I hadn’t asked for it; it was a no-brainer for them. It’s just how they are. Because of Chana and Yitz, throughout one of the most difficult times of my life, my refrigerator was never empty and my heart was always full.

When I think about Yitz, I remember his pride as he told me how he had studied computer science before most people knew what a computer was. I remember his funny stories about his early years on a kibbutz when he first came to Israel, how one day, the sound of gravel crunching under his feet reminded him of snow back home and made him homesick. I remember the heartwarming story of how he proposed to Chana–he said that from the moment he met her, he knew they would marry. I remember the profound, teary love in his eyes when he spoke of the birth of his first grandchild.

And that infernal banjo!

Yitz, I hope you didn’t suffer too much. I’m glad you’re not suffering any more. Because you’re gone, a part of us is gone and we will miss you forever. Farewell my friend.