Whirlwinds Unwound

Have you ever wondered about the connection between the words wind (as in air that moves) and wind (to turn, twist, wrap or coil)? Guess what? There is none. Well, not etymologically. But it seems to me that whenever winds blow there's always some unwinding to be done. This discovery may have begun in the fall of 1989 when I mailed this card (yes, in an envelope, with a stamp) to all our nearest and dearest:

That year, the holidays were a whirlwind - and a blur. Coming home from the hospital in time for a Rosh Hashanah shalom zachor...erev Shabbos Shuva bris...fasting on Yom Kippur with three kids under the age of three keeping me company...and I honestly have no memory of Succos whatsoever. Once the holidays wound down, we settled into a routine and life went on. 

Fast forward 37 years to this past September:

New Year wishes got belated as a new arrival we awaited.

Then she was born, to Yael and Chaim Yoel, on 19 Tishrei - not in Elul.

On Hoshanah Rabba they named her Hadassah Tova, in the holy city of Afula.

That was on the 30th of September. 

Now, family and friends we take time to remember,

with every blessing for the new year.

Good news from you may we soon hear!

I'll spare you the not-unstressful details of arriving in Afula 48 hours before Rosh Hashanah and then beginning the w-a-i-t for the baby who was due to be born on Yom Kippur but chose Chol HaMoed Succos for her arrival instead. Let's cut straight to the joy and gratitude of spending the holidays in the holy Land for the first time in 24 years and welcoming our new granddaughter into the world. Hodu LaShem ki tov, ki l'olam chasdo! (Give thanks to HaShem because He is good; because His kindness endures forever!) This bumper sticker, handed to me on a street corner by a happy Breslover Chassid, sums it all up: 

No complaints. Only Thanks. Thank you, dear Father.

Rebbetzin Tziporah Gottleib (may Tziporah bas Sarah have a complete recovery from her recent fall) asked her faithful readers to share their personal Succos situations with her. This is part of what I wrote: 

Dear Rebbetzin, 

What a gift to sit in our Succah this year! Decorated simply by our Afula grandchildren; cups and plates flying off the table as the evening winds blew in...there I was - as you described - "with people we love, enjoying the mitzvah of simply being there, feeling that we were sitting under Hashem's protection", thankful beyond words for it all and wishing the same for everyone I know (and don't know). 

By the time Simchas Torah came, Hadassah Tova was home from the hospital and settled in with her Eema, Abba and delighted big sisters.

That night, I felt myself beginning to unwind as the men wound their way in song and dance through the shul, out onto the streets, hugging their Torahs, transporting me to "l'shana ha'ba'ah b'Yerushalyim habenuya" (next year in a rebuilt Jerusalem). Indeed, with being on call 24 hours a day before Hadassah was born and being available on demand afterwards, I could only Remember Jerusalem from up north - until the day of our return flight when we whirlwinded our way through the holy city with good friends, good food and grateful prayers...

There's so much more I want to share - or perhaps to journal for my own selfish reasons. Because I know that just as the whirlwind of 1989 is a blur so too will this holiday season become. And as the gentle breezes of fall give way to the stormy winds of winter, I will wind up with whatever I make the effort to remember.

Today is the 18th of Cheshvan - the yohrtzeit of my grandfather, Chaim Yoel ben Avraham, z"l - for whom Hadassah's father is named. May his neshama have an aliyah and continue to advocate Above for his generations of descendants and for a (belated) shana tova - or as Zaidy would have said "ah git gebencht yohr" - for all Am Yisrael.

It's Tu b'Av...

Many times in the last six months, I've tried to post something current and preferably upbeat. But then – BOOM! (often literally) - whatever I was writing was suddenly outdated. Even as I type these words, following Bibi's "one of the best we've ever had" meeting with Trump, the U.S. is planning it's retaliation for Iran's "surprise attack" on Jordan last night. So I’m typing quickly to get this out before the next boom...

Yes, it’s Tu b’Av, the 15^th day of the month of Av. A little background: Long before dating apps and singles events, there was Tu B'Av. According to the Mishnah, the unmarried young women of Jerusalem would wear simple, borrowed white dresses (so no one could tell who was rich and who was poor) and they would dance (modestly) in the vineyards.

Young, eligible men would come to choose a wife from the women who encouraged them to look not at their physical appearance but at their good character and fear of Heaven. I’m not entirely sure how that all worked but, with lots of Divine intervention, it did. 

Without “resumes”, photos, swiping or awkward ice-breaking conversation. Miraculous.

Things have gotten more complicated for singles over the millennia.  And the last few decades have been particularly frustrating for many. But miracles still happen! We celebrate them all year long and it’s especially nice to say Mazal Tov to those whose engagements or marriages are taking place on or around Tu b’Av. 

So Mazal Tov to...

             💗Sam and Hodaya💗

        💗Danielle Marie and Tzvi💗

              💗Tzippy and Lior💗

          💗Arie Dovid and Dvora💗

As a group, the parents of these couples could start a new (and very much improved) United Nations, hailing as they do from Israel, the U.S., Morocco, Brazil, Iran, England and beyond. Three of the four weddings were or will be in Israel, where the newlyweds will make their homes and raise their families. Join me in wishing them many happy, healthy years together and generations of proud Jewish progeny. And to all those waiting for their special day may we soon be able to say Mazal Tov to YOU! 

Tu B'Av, one of the happiest days on the Jewish calendar, comes just six days after Tisha B'Av, our saddest holiday. It's as if the calendar says: "Yes, we still mourn the destruction of the Beit HaMikdash but immediately after we anticipate its rebuilding and celebrate new beginnings."

Is there anyone who personifies that better than former hostages, Sasha Troufanov and Sapir Cohen, who stood under their chuppah together in Israel earlier this month? I can’t do their story justice so click here for the full coverage.

Tu B'Av reminds us that after mourning can come joy; after tragedy can come blessing. When we Remember Jerusalem post-Tisha b’Av, we can see the prophecy of Yirmiyahu (Jeremiah, 33:11) being fulfilled before our eyes. It is included in the blessings recited under the chuppah and sung with gusto to one of any number of well-known tunes as the couple makes their way back down the aisle as husband and wife: “Ode yishama b’arei Yehuda u’v’chutzos Yerushalayim…” – We will yet hear, in the cities of Judah and the streets of Jerusalem, the sounds of joy and gladness, the sounds of the bridegroom and bride. Or to borrow the post-October 7 expression: Ode nachzor lirkode - We will dance again. B'ezrat Hashem.  

Click here to sing along with perhaps the most prolific and beloved of "Ode yishama" singers. And say Amen.

HaChatuf Ha'Acharon - The Last Hostage

"The circle has closed..." So began the announcement that the remains of Master Sergeant Ran Gvili had been found and were being brought home for proper Jewish burial. For 843 days, his family waited...Israel waited...the Jewish Nation waited...to close - but never to forget - this horrific chapter of our history.

For me, the most intense waiting had been since arriving in Israel in late October and being greeted by this sign:

"Until the Last Hostage"

It was a promise that as individuals and as a nation, we would not rest until the return of the very last hostage. At that time, there were still eleven of them. Eleven bodies still being held in Gaza. Eleven families still waiting, praying, hoping. By the time we left Israel at the end of November, there were just two.

And then, one. The Last Hostage. HaChatuf Ha'Acharon.

I prayed for the return of Ran Gvili ben Itzik every day, waiting to close the circle and write this post.

Yeshuas HaShem k'Heref Ayin. G-d's salvation can come in the blink of an eye. On the morning of January 26, snowed in and scrolling through stuff on my phone, I thought I had misread the news item. It seemed almost matter-of-fact. But then came the photos and videos to back it up. It was true. After all the false leads, dashed hopes and intense searching, it was true. And that's when the jumbled emotions began.  

How do you breathe a sigh of relief and simultaneously cry for all the pain of the past two-plus years? 

How do you thank G-d for His kindness without also asking "But why?" 

Tough questions. But I got my answers... 

...from the brave soldiers of the IDF who, with G-d's help, completed their mission faithfully.

....from the former hostages who finally removed the yellow ribbon pins with joy (click here). 

...from Ran's family who proclaimed that "our pride is much, much greater than our pain" (click here). 

We'll watch these videos again and again and then we'll move on...

...to a better tomorrow.

...to Remember Jerusalem, the city that unites us always (see Tehillim 122:3), as the burial of Ran Gvili unites us today.

 May his memory be a blessing.