In Jewish tradition it is said that a person dies twice, the first time when our heart stops. And the second? When our name is said for the last time. It is for that reason I still wear a yellow ribbon on my wrist, and if I’m honest, I don’t know when I’ll be ready to stop. I know some already have, our living hostages are home, that is something to celebrate and I feel such a sense of joy in knowing some of my prayers have been answered. Grief and healing are such personal p
Forgiveness is not forgetting. It is freedom. It is a choice we have to make every day, to live with truth and allow us to carry on. I originally wrote this in the days leading up to Yom Kippur, I had been thinking a lot about forgiveness. Not the kind we ask for, but the kind we offer; especially when it’s undeserved. I benched it at the time, unsure if it fit. But now, in the wake of recent events: the hostage release, the fragile ceasefire, the deafening silence from other
This space is a blend of personal reflections, Jewish thought, and gentle resistance to misinformation and antisemitism. Rooted in tradition, written in solitude and shared with hope for better days.
