“The life of Sara” is the portion in which she dies. Avraham buries her, he cries too. Sara, our foremother, says the Zohar, is a metaphor for the body, Avraham, our forefather, the soul. The body is buried, the soul carries on (literally).

In this week's Parsha, Shemot, Moses meets G-d.

Uncommonly, in a burning thorn bush.

The bush burns but it does not get consumed. "V'hasneh Anenu Ukal"

In 2021 I skied for the first time in 21 years. Arriving at Alta mountain in Utah with Eliyahu and Menny, I put on a confident show. In reality, my heart was thumping out fear.

Famous words in this week’s Torah Portion: Lech Lecha. 

God tells Avraham: Go for yourself. 

Rashi, who is basic, explains: Go for your own benefit and your own good. 

You don’t need anyone else to validate you.

You are an adult.

Validate yourself and move on.

I feel seen. It's a throwaway line on social media comments, even if it is to poke fun; feeling seen feels good. 

Never Again is the response echoed throughout my life.

The Rebbe, childless, clasped into his bosom a broken generation, holding them tight with a healing vision. Moshiach Now.

Sitting on the porch swing, Eliyahu and I were spending time alone with Henia. Although planning to spend time with each child is highly rated, it wasn’t a planned thing.

It is Azalea season in Georgia. These colorful flowers nestled in bushes dot the landscape all over town. If you know anything about me, you know that I have a deep and passionate love for nature, and especially flowers. 

I have upwards of 250 notes on my phone. Musings, journaling, comments, kids’ cute quotes, frustrations, and dreams. I found this note from six years ago and am repurposing it as a letter to myself, sharing it with you in case you need to hear it as well.

This past weekend we celebrated Menny's Bar Mitzvah. Our last Bar Mitzvah was our first celebration with a drive-through and few guests, the albatross of this pandemic.

These flowers are more than just a scene; they are my dream. Ask my sisters, they will tell you, all I ever want out of my physical space is somewhere filled with natural beauty upon which to rest my eyes.

I am a cliche'. I pull my sourdough starter out of the fridge each Thursday morning since quarantine and then set it on the counter. It lies there idle. Flat. There is no sound. It's dead. I feed it.

At some point, I learned to trust
to believe that my husband’s dreams were his to own
and he could navigate them alone

This is Chanukah. Zos Chanukah. Today, the eight-day of Chanukah. Every bit of potential has been realized, every cup in the Menorah that waited its turn is sufficiently filled with olive oil or

On Wednesday morning, I texted one of my favorite teachers, Rabbi Shais Taub: Me: I’m having a really hard time with this week's Parsha: brother is thrown into a pit. Oooh, Let’s eat! ----Is just one example.

We work, we entertain ourselves, hang out, chat, and (used to) vacation. And all of this works ---until it doesn't. Until something happens that causes us to wonder, is there more? Oh, there is more. 

This week's Parsha is named for the Jewish Matriarch Sara. It wants to tell us that she died, but instead, it tells us how she lived. Sara lived for 127 years. The Torah is always particular…

Stay home is the universal message of the coronavirus. As we face this new reality the Rabbis and shul goers all over the world have a lot to navigate. For some, shul closings have been the thwack of reality about how serious the pandemic is.

I don’t shake hands. Well, at least not with most adult males. I politely decline the hand offered to me. “I am sorry, I don’t shake hands for religious reasons, nothing personal”