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.