Disclaimer not Included

I recently saw a story about a couple from Australia that met on Tinder. Due to the lockdown they had nowhere to go for a date. So he went to her house. They hit things off and kissed. That caused her to end up in a hospital due to a severe peanut allergy. The the author was trying to make the point that instead of bolting he stayed by her side at the hospital. I guess feelgood stories are hard to find these days.

The comment section read the story in a very different way. It was filled with condemnations for breaking social distancing rules during a pandemic along with other moral judgements. There was also a strong response to the criticism.  Over and over the comments were being refuted by pointing out  that Australia was at a different stage of the virus and the rules were different. Getting together in small groups was already permitted in most parts of Australia.

Around the same time, someone I know posted about how they feel pressured to put a disclaimer on every post they write. They felt that they could not share their own thoughts and feelings without having to acknowledge and validate that others have their own struggles and challenges.

These ideas made me stop and think about my own life, especially during the time that living in the wake of personal tragedy was consuming every piece of my being. Relationships were torpedoed because people who genuinely cared couldn't get the disclaimer quite right. At the same time sensitivity is important. Taking time to privately acknowledge others are struggling can be incredibly powerful and meaningful. What lengths should one go to be sensitive by openly acknowledging that others are suffering.  More importantly, why is it so important to me at this moment in time?

A common challenge of dealing with trauma is recognizing that you are allowed to be happy. How many times have I avoided the therapeutic process of writing or sharing a thought or a milestone in my life because I was worried that doing so would cause someone to be not happy with/for me. 

The rest of this post is about positive, happy thing going on in my life right now. If that is going to cause you to be upset or want to criticize me, now is the time to find something else to read.

Living with the Corona Virus restrictions has been a challenge. In the big picture it has not turned into a negative experience for me.

I live in a country that took a proactive role in keeping the virus contained. As such most things are open or about to be open, as the number of active cases continues to decline. Shlomo and Channah went back to school on Tuesday. Shlomo's ganenet was very impressed with how much academic growth he had achieved during the break.  Aside from a few schools in the centre of the country the transition to kids in school has gone fairly smoothly.

Peri and I both have secure jobs. We were not able to apply for any relief money because we didn't have any loss of income. We are also used to working from home. Spending more time with the kids, did take extra work. We made the most of the extra time with our kids and enjoyed the experience. The bond between Shlomo and Hoodie grew by leaps and bounds.

As the restrictions were first coming in place,I did struggle with my mental health. Once I got over that hurdle, I went through a period of a number of weeks that was the most mentally stable and calm period, ever since I took the step to fight my depression and PTSD. I even had one therapy session cut short because I didn't have anything to talk about. I must admit, I did find therapy by phone to be less effective than regular therapy.

Our building has been having a minyan most of the time, since shuls were limited to 100 people, the Shabbat after Purim. On and off, as the rules changed I did struggle from an ethical and safety standpoint, my relationship with the minyan. Having a minyan that I could participate in, from the safety of my balcony has done a lot of spiritual good for me. On Friday nights, davening is too late for the kids, so we make early (plag) Shabbat. We leave the door open, just enough so that we can hear the melodies of Kabbalat Shabbat fill our Shabbat meal. I join the minyan near the end, in order to count sefira and repeat Kriyat Shema with a Barchu included.

Of course the most exciting news is our new apartment. Our tenants move out on Sunday. We have time to make some minor renovations before we move in, later the following week. I am incredibly grateful with the hashgacha pratis that we have experienced with the purchase.

The dream was to move into the apartment before Pesach. However, the sellers needed an extra 2 months, due to delays with their purchase. After intense negotiations, we begrudgingly agreed to allow them to rent our apartment for 2 months. On the closing date, we were already in full lockdown. We couldn't even see the apartment to do the closing inspection. The rental arrangement lasted just long enough for us to get through the crisis. We have had enough time, with stores open to buy the items we need before moving in and complete the renovations and moving without being delayed by Government restrictions.

We also had incredibly good timing in dealing with the mortgage. We were able to lock in when rates were at their lowest before they started to rise again.

The next two weeks are super exciting. I am fulfilling a dream that  I never dreamed would ever be possible until it was. I am looking forward to being happy as we build a home that is ours.

Lag B'Omer A Tale of Two Years

For many, Lag B'Omer is very different from what they are used to. Bonfires are banned throughout the country. The only exception are the 3 bonfires at Meron that have been authorized by the Government. As far as I have seen the going rate to spend 10 minutes flying over the bonfires are between 499 NIS and $1400 US.

Lag B'Omer is traditionally a school vacation day. I have yet to find a person who has been able to explain why. The head of the teachers union has been adamant that the teachers were not going to give up any vacation days this year, outside the 9 they sacrificed when Pesach vacation started 9 days early. We received a message from the City of Haifa this afternoon. In order to keep the Ganim open tomorrow, they will be operating with 2 sayats (assistants) and no ganenet. Channah has the day off from school.

When I was a kid, I was told that in Israel on Lag B'Omer kids went into the forests to play with bows and arrows. I have no idea where this idea originated but Channah was upset at the suggestion that it was something that was ever done.

I stepped out onto my mirpeset to daven mincha and was disappointed to be greeted with the harsh smell of smoke of Lag B'omer. Apparently the police have been out in full force to enforce the ban and to stop BBQ from being used in place of bonfires. Someone in our community was visited by the police this evening. Their kids had taken the grill off of their BBQ. As they were cooking marshmallows and hot dogs, the police were satisfied it was not a makeshift bonfire and went on their way.

While my mind is focused on the hear and now, I find my brain wondering back to the same time last year. Last year, on Erev Lag B'Omer afternoon, my flight landed in Toronto. I spent a little bit of time answering my drivers questions about Israel and the Peace Process. After a while, the conversation died out and the taxi driver turned on the radio. The news was filled with stories of someone being hit by a car and a school evacuation due to a bomb threat that was found in a suitcase with a note claiming there were more suitcases with bombs inside. I couldn't help but think about how people think Israel is dangerous and how could anyone with that attitude live in such a violent city.

I finally arrived at my Aunt's house around an hour before mincha. My Uncle had tasked me with two requests for his death. He wanted me to take care of davening and say kaddish for the year.  Instead of being home, making sure all windows and doors were sealed tight, I was the shaliach tzibur and saying kaddish. A good part of that trip was making sure I was at shul to say kaddish along side my father. It caused some interesting moments, especially since they liked treating me like I did have a chiuv, even when I didn't. The convenient exception being Rosh Chodesh, when they had me daven because I didn't have a chiuv.

In the end my parents stepped in to protect my mental health and rescinded their permission, allowing me to say kaddish. I had someone who my Uncle would have approved of make sure it was taken care of. I would never have believed that a pandemic could wipe out plans for something so simple.

Yesterday, was his Yahrziet. My cousin did a great job of orchestrating a Zoom get together of friends and family, who have felt the loss of my Uncle. It wasn't easy, especially with the number of people having their first introduction to the technology. Hoodie got so excited when she realized my parents were on the screen. She kept jumping up and down and yelling 'Aidy and Mom'  She had her mind blown when my parents Facetimed right afterwards. Today she was still going around telling us that 'Bubbie, Zaidy omputer.' Shlomo kept picking out people he knew from our recent trip to Toronto along with the Israeli cousins. He also became obsessed with 'Rabbi Joe', who he must have asked about 60 times, who he was. I think it was the beard. It was also a chance to 'introduce cousins' that Channah doesn't necessarily know but are some of the people that come to mind if I have to describe who is 'My Family.'

Aside from running the get together well, my cousin spoke well about her father. She helped bring up a lot of memories, that I just couldn't bring myself to share in a coherent fashion. I have found myself thinking about our walks to shul, his career advice, Pesach seders, helping put up the succah every year, forcing  my cousin and I to learn to read benching, planting tomatoes, playing chess, a younger Channah refusing to talk to him in Hebrew because of the accent, finding Free Torah High. If you beat him playing a game, you knew you beat him and it wasn't because he let you win. No matter what I did, I knew I was going to be challenged. In hind sight he wasn't always right and I didn't always listen. He cared and would always push you to your limits. He always expected everyone around him to strive for their best. He also wasn't afraid to share, if he made a mistake.

There is one memory that my cousin jogged up that has given me something to contemplate. She said he went to Yeshiva and then he went to a kibbutz. He never told me he went to Yeshiva. He used to love telling me about the kibbutz. When he described what it was like milking a cow, it was as if he had transported himself back to that place and time.

I now own a home in Israel. In a few weeks we will be moving. I can't help but to think that it would be something that would make him proud and connects us to many occasions we spent together.

May all those who feel his loss, find strength and comfort. May his Neshama have an Aliyah.