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Sunday, March 30, 2008

Through My Child's Eyes...

Tonight I had a special treat: dinner alone with my youngest daughter.

My two oldest kids are away on an overnight tiyul shnati (annual class trip), and Moshe wasn't home yet.

I doctored up some LOs and, before I knew it, we were sitting down to Tofu & Rice w/sesame sauce and A was thanking me for making such a nice dinner.

We chatted about this and that, and then I decided to follow up on a comment that A made earlier in the evening.

I had been talking on the phone, relaying how I once told my eldest daughter that "if you don't feel sorry for yourself, then other people won't feel sorry for you." Both my friend and A simultaneously responded "that's not always true."

So I asked A what she meant by that.

She replied that it depends on whether or not the person knows you.

I asked for an example, and A preceded to tell me about a girl she met just this evening.

I still didn't understand.

A asked if she could write it down. (As she wrote, she explained that she was leaving out some things and only writing the important parts)

Here's what she wrote: (translated into English, and printed here with her permission)

Tamar: How are you getting home?
Me: By foot.
Tamar: Why isn't your father or mother picking you up?
Me: Because my mother is sick and my father works late.
Tamar: Is your mother very sick?
Me: Not really, she has breast cancer.
Tamar: Oy, really?
Me: Yes, but it's not so bad.

Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,

Friday, March 28, 2008


I met with my oncologist this past Tuesday. I had a list of questions for him. Most were simple. Some were not...

I asked: "What's the plan?"

He answered: "To keep doing what we're doing."

I clarified: "Do I understand correctly that I keep taking these drugs until they stop working, and then I take something else?"

He answered: "Yup."

I asked: "Will I get any breaks?"

He answered: "Nope."

I persisted: "I've met people with metastasis who have breaks in their treatment."

He stated: "I don't know about other patients."

I asked: "But will there be times that I don't need to be on chemo?"

He responded: "That's a rephrase. I've answered that question."

He emphasized that we are aiming for stability; that our goal is that the cancer doesn't grow. I don't like that. I don't want it to "stay the same." I want the cancer to shrink. I want it to go away.

It is difficult for me to accept that I will always have cancer.

I am having a hard time with the chemo-for-life thing.

Yeah, yeah, I know... "It's better than the alternative."

It still sucks.

I can live with it.

People get used to it.

I'm stuck.

I gotta' get past it.

This is the way it is.

Accept it and move on.

I have cancer.


Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,

Tuesday, March 25, 2008

Post-Purim Playfulness

One of my swimming students is a very serious girl.

It is clear that she takes everything, not just her swimming lessons, seriously.

So when she kept laughing during yesterday's lesson, I asked "what's up?"

"Purim," she responded, laughing.

What could I say?

I just laughed along with her!

Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,

Monday, March 24, 2008

Purim 5768

It's always a bit of a downer when Purim is over. All the excitement and energy abruptly ends and the "normal" week begins. How much more so, when Purim celebrations have been going on for almost a week!

Sunday (still Purim for us) was a lot of fun!

Everyone slept late -- a real "Sunday".

I would have slept even later, but.... even though there was no Megillah reading, we still had to make Mishloach Manot. After putting together some things on my own, I decided to be the "bad guy" and woke up my "staff"!

Every year I am determined to make something creative (and moderately healthy).

A friend of mine, DF, always makes Mishloach Manot with a theme. One year it was breakfast (complete with bagels & cream cheese); one year it was lasagna and salad; etc.

Another friend, BB, gives Shiv'at HaMinim.

I'm sure there are people out there who give Mishloach Moanot with all the b'rachot (blessings).

This year, fresh baked challot and a bottle of wine were popular for those who celebrated Purim on Friday (i.e. most of the world's Jews, besides those who live in Jerusalem).

And every year, I consider all sorts of variations on the above.

But, unlike my friend, A Mother in Israel, who is so cool (and baked individual quiches!), I just can't get it together!

And then there's Jameel.... well, who can compete with waffles!!

For one reason or another, every year I fall back on our family "standard":
popcorn (a few years ago popcorn became our fail-safe filler, since EVERYONE loves popcorn), some sort of baked good (sometimes home baked, other times not) for mezonot,
a fruit (complicated this year because of shmita),
and candies (it used to be just toffees, but my kids rebelled, so every year we get a few fun candies).

Our goal is to make something simple, inexpensive and fun. If my kids would be happy to receive it, then they are happy to give it. (hence the funky candies). Since we usually don't have candies in our home, their standards are still pretty basic (gummy candies, flavored powder, lollypops, etc)

Maybe next year we'll be more creative.... (and healthy!)

Anyway, we made an assembly line and managed to get everything packed, decorated and labeled! Then Moshe took the kids to make deliveries.

I was tired! But, instead of resting, I tried to straighten up after the morning's hurricane.

So, when I picked up a forgotten bag of Mishloach Manot that Y was supposed to deliver to elderly people in the neighborhood, and a bottle of wine fell through the bottom of the bag, I felt like crying! There was wine and broken glass all over the kitchen floor... and I was barefoot!

As I cleaned off my wine-drenched feet and put on shoes, I thought of the laughter workshop. I tried to laugh about the mess. "ha, ha, ha...tzchok ha'yayin...." The laughter wasn't real. Still, something must have "shifted", 'cause I didn't cry when I got down on my knees and cleaned up the mess.


We went to our first Purim Seudah, around 1:00. Our hosts are one of the more seriously Orange families in our neighborhood. It was great to really sit down and talk with them. They are so interesting!! They have daughters the same ages as Y and A, so it was also a good opportunity for the girls to spend some time together.

Then we went off to our second Purim Seudah. These friends, with whom we have celebrated Purim before, are a bit zany (well, the husband is). But nothing prepared us for the sudden surprise invasion of 9 chassidic men who came over to daven ma'ariv just as we were about to drink tea!

Though we sat for hours, both meals ended too quickly. And, before I knew it, we were on our way home, and Purim was over.

And so, our "normal" week began....

Sunday night, post-Purim, our kids got ready for bed. Then, we all sat down together and watched Star Trek.

Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,

Friday, March 21, 2008

Purim Torah -- Know Your Place!

And here I was, thinking that I wouldn't be posting again until AFTER Purim!

Make sure to click on the poster, so that you will benefit from all the words of wisdom! (Not to mention the important images).

Make sure to clear your mind first, so that you are receptive to the very holy message that is imperative for every Bas Yisroel to internalize!

Hat-tip: Jameel

Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,

Thursday, March 20, 2008

Purim Torah -- Lag Ba'Omer in Persia?

There is a Purim custom of writing, reading, or performing clever twists of logic or farcical interpretations of Torah, teachers, life, the universe and everything.

Whether in a song or play or an email circulating the internet, these Purim Torahs spread laughter and glee.

Of course, usually it's Jews who are doing this on purpose.

But, this year, perhaps for the first time ever, it seems that FOX NEWS is participating in this uniquely Jewish tradition.

Check out this article:

Just in case someone catches the mistake and removes the article, here it is:


Youths Protest Ahmadinejad During New Year Festivities

Wednesday, March 19, 2008

Iranian youths staged a massive protest Wednesday, calling for Mahmoud Ahmadinejad’s demise during the Persian celebration of Lag Ba'omer, United Press International reported.

Angry mobs shouted “Death to Ahmadinejad” while lighting bonfires in the city of Sanandaj, UPI reported. Bonfires and firecrackers are traditional in marking the occasion.

Police officers attempting to arrest the revelers were greeted with a barrage of firecrackers, but the situation never escalated beyond the typical celebration.

Click here for more from United Press International.

Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,

Wednesday, March 19, 2008

Chemo Day -- Sunday is Tuesday

This week, Sunday was Tuesday.

(Remember the classic Carvel ice cream commercial: Wednesday is Sunday?)

So, why the switch to chemo on Sunday?

Friends of ours, JS & MM, just had a baby boy. The brit was Tuesday and I didn't want to miss it! (Their daughter, H, is one of my swimming students, JS is in my book club, and I've known MM pretty much since I made Aliyah, and JS since she did)

At first, my doctor didn't want me to move chemo to Sunday. He was worried about my blood counts and suggested that I move my chemo-day to Thursday. But if I moved chemo to Thursday then I would be a zombie on Purim, which would be a total bummer! (I planned to dress up as something much more fun!)

I haven't had a problem with blood counts yet, so I asked my doctor to let me try for Sunday. He agreed. YAY!

What a gift!!!

Not only were my blood counts fine, but there were added advantages that I hadn't even realized.

True, I was REALLY TIRED on Monday. I had to really push myself to teach swimming. Thank God, the lessons were great! So I felt better after than before! I came home, had dinner with my family, and even managed to go out to a community event for women. (Then I came home and collapsed! No wonder I didn't post that night...)

I was REALLY TIRED on Tuesday too. After the brit, I came home and collapsed! I slept for FOUR hours solid! I pulled myself out of my slumber to take care of my kids for a few hours. Then I fell back asleep. I woke again, had dinner with my kids, then headed off to bed. STOP! GO BACK! Can't go to bed before helping the kids put together Mishloah Manot (typically, gift baskets filled with candy and junk-food) for school -- Everyone brings one, then they draw lots and give away Mishloach Manot to one kid and get Mishloach Manot from another. Y was still putting the finishing touches on her Mishloah Manot, when I had to go lie down. As soon as I gave my kids what they needed, I fell into bed. I was already drifting off to sleep when, one by one, the kids came in to check that I would be available to help in the morning. Every year, I wake up early to help the kids get in their costumes. When Y came in, she asked for the Purim make-up, so that she could do the make-up for herself and her sister. What an angel!! I made sure that she knew it was OK to wake me if they need me.

They didn't. But I woke up anyway and got to see everyone in all their glory. A was an angel, all dressed in white, with wings and a crown of white and silver. MD was an alien Shabak (secret service) agent. Y also got dressed up this year. She chose to be Jasmine (from Disney's Aladdin movie), dressed in turquoise, replete with satiny turquoise harem pants and headband. (and a much more modest top). They all looked great! I got to take pictures of A, but then Moshe herded the kids out. They had to go right away, or they would get stuck in the Homat Shmuel morning back-up (the only time of the day that there is traffic getting out of the neighborhood). So I wasn't able to get pictures of Y & MD. I'll get them on Purim!

I was still tired on Wednesday (today), but not as tired as before. I looked forward to a short, early-afternoon nap to boost my energy, but I lost the nap, due to a mix-up that was really a carry-over from the night before. The kids had told me that school was finishing early today, but I was so tired that the information didn't register. Well, I spent my nap-time trying to make sure that everyone got home all right. They did, but it took about an hour to work out all the kinks. Oh well.

Parental Pride Moment: Y was acutely aware that I was missing my nap trying to arrange for her to get home and still spend the afternoon with her friend. She thanked me for all my efforts and for giving up my nap for her. Wow! Who needs a nap when you have kids like that?!

Anyway, the bottom line is that even though I was so tired all week, I will have energy for Purim!!

What a bonus!!

I really love Purim! (I know, I say that about every holiday, but it's true!!)

I love getting dressed up! I love seeing everyone's costumes! (especially the clever, self-made ones) And I love the festive spirit that pervades EVERYWHERE!! There are costumed kids walking along the streets, riding the buses, and playing in the parks! There are costumed grown-ups working at their jobs and walking along the streets! There is so much candy that I just give up and let my kids bounce off the walls! This is the quintessential kids' holiday! And I love it!! (OK, I admit it. I'm just a kid walking around in a grown-up body. See, I'm in costume every day and no one knows it!)

Anyway, if it weren't for the brit, and my desire not to miss out on a simcha, I wouldn't have moved chemo, and I would be tired for all of Purim.

Now, since I had chemo on Sunday, I should be OK by Thursday night and fine for Shabbat and Sunday.

For all you non-Jerusalemites: this year Shushan Purim falls on Shabbat which creates this funky concept called "Purim Meshulash" which spreads the Purim celebrations out for THREE days! Add to this that Israelis start celebrating Purim two days early, and we end up celebrating Purim for almost a week! Yet another good reason to move to Israel!

This Purim, for the second year running, I am organizing a women's Megillah reading in Homat Shmuel. I had hoped to read also, but I am still hoarse, so I don't think I'm going to be reading this year. (This will be the first or second time that I haven't read in 20years! I can't remember now if I managed to read the year I got cancer.) It's a real bummer to have this sore throat thing. Anyway, even though it's good for women from my neighborhood to see someone "local" reading, we are so lucky to have my friend TS read -- she is really an awesome ba'alat korei (reader), very exacting in both nikud (punctuation) and trop (musical notations) and she does voices as well. It doesn't get better than that!

Purim Sameach!!!

Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,

Thursday, March 13, 2008

Chilren's Prayers

Last Thursday night, A overheard Moshe informing my friends and I about the terrible terrorist attack going on at Merkaz HaRav.

A & MD were getting ready for bed and Moshe was about to sing to them and tuck them in. (Y was out babysitting)

Moshe walked into A's room, and found her sitting on the side of her bed, reciting Tehillim.

Two years ago, A received the small book of Tehillim as a gift from a teacher. I never saw A open the book. Occasionally, I found it lying around the house. Then I would tuck it in a corner or on a shelf. I didn't know that it made it's way back to A.

A small book of Tehillim, waiting on A's shelf until she needed it.

The next day, A came into my room to cuddle for a few moments. She shared with me that she had said Tehillim the night before, to help the students at Merkaz HaRav.

I told her how powerful her prayers are. How God especially listens to the prayers of children. That maybe less Jews were killed or hurt because of her prayers.

"I asked Hashem (God) why is he doing this. How many things can happen to Am Yisrael at one time?" A shared.

After a few moments, A told me that her book of Tehillim is one of her most prized possessions.

Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,

Wednesday, March 12, 2008

The Clock

During my discussion with my oncologist, I mentioned a recent conversation that disturbed me.

A good friend is going through a particularly difficult period in her life (nothing to do with health) and admitted that, at times, she is jealous of me. In particular, she is jealous of the warm, loving and supportive environment that I have at home.

(Don't be fooled, if you pass outside our door, you are just as likely to hear yelling as laughter. We are a real family, with real issues. It's easy to paint an idyllic picture, but that would just be another fantasy...)

Anyway, when my friend told me this, I felt compelled to deliver a "reality check."

It's true; she is going through a really tough time right now. But she will get past it. And then, God willing, she will live a long and happy life.

I, on the other hand, have cancer. I won't "get past it." Hopefully I'll live with it. But, if we are brutally honest, I probably won't live as long as someone without cancer.

"So," I proclaimed to my oncologist, "nobody should ever be jealous of me."

"I'm not so sure," said my doctor, thoughtfully.

"Let's be real," I repeated, "there is no reason to be jealous of me."

"Only if you are looking at the clock," responded my doctor. "If you focus on the clock," he continued, "you are correct. But there are other factors to consider."

I paused.

Since then, I've been thinking.

For the past few weeks, I have been very focused on "the clock."

Maybe if I stop looking at the clock, I will stop being jealous of everyone else.

Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,

Tuesday, March 11, 2008

We have cancer

"We" have cancer.

The disease might be in my body, but "we" have cancer.

I don't know how I would manage without Moshe.

He is my "anchor."

He comes to every doctor's meeting with me. He provides emotional support and is my mental recorder. (Thank God one of us has a working memory)

He drives me to every chemo treatment, and stays with me until I am all set up. He would stay the whole time, every time, without question.

He wakes up with me in the middle of the night, when I feel sick.

He holds me when I start crying for no reason.

He wakes up every morning and gets the kids to school on time.

He picks up all the pieces that I leave in my wake.

He doesn't complain.

He'll drop everything if I need him.

When I had my major surgery (8 hours in the operating room) two years ago, and lay in bed unable to move, Moshe lovingly held a straw to my lips so that I could drink. Then, with utmost care, he gently wiped off my chin, so that I wouldn't be irritated by the smallest drip.

That memory, of tender care, will stay with me forever.

Only recently did I learn of another act of his loving kindness during that hospital stay. I was in terrible pain, and I watched TV almost 24/7 to distract me from my discomfort. I would turn on the TV in the middle of the night and watch for hours, drifting in and out of a restless sleep. Only recently did Moshe mention, in passing, the hours of sleep he lost during that time. I hadn't even realized that I was disturbing his sleep. He never indicated anything, lest I not do what was best for me.

That selfless giving is typical.

He never asks for thanks.

He never expects anything in return.

He is quiet, generous, and giving.

He is my partner.

He listens.

He is there.

"We" have cancer.

I am not alone.

Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,

Monday, March 10, 2008

In For Life

Two weeks ago, at the end our meeting, after I had asked all my medical questions, I asked my oncologist if he wanted to know about my mood.

"I want to know everything," he answered.

So I mentioned that I was having a difficult time dealing emotionally with the "life-long" element of my disease.

He immediately scheduled another meeting for the following week.

"I'm scheduling you like a 'new patient' so that we will have the proper time to discuss this, which we don't have now." He explained. On our way out, he added: "Bring tissues."

For a week, I worried that I was going to break down crying in his office. Sometimes I thought that wouldn't be such a bad thing.

In the end, we had a very cerebral meeting about my emotional state.

I raised my issues.

He listened, responded, questioned, affirmed.

In the end, we all (him, Moshe & I) agreed that I am coping OK.

"Keep talking;" he advised Moshe and I, "this affects both of you. Open lines of communication are critical. Talking about the things you'd rather avoid will bring you closer."

In the end, I didn't cry at all.

I felt emotionally unsatisfied.

If everything was OK, what was I doing there?

"Well," answered the doctor, "last week, for the first time, you cried in my office."

"I did?" I questioned him and Moshe.

"You did," Moshe confirmed.


I didn't remember crying last week.

I wanted to cry this week. (but didn't)

And, now that we all know that I'm fine, who knows when I'll cry?

But, dammed if I don't feel like crying all the time these days!

I'm having a tough time dealing with the fact that, short of a miracle, I am going to have cancer for the rest of my life.

I know that my situation is good. I know that it could be a lot worse. I know that there are other people living with life-long, invisible illnesses.

It doesn't help. I hate having cancer.

I wish it would just go away!

Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,

Sunday, March 9, 2008

Merkaz HaRav

---this post was delayed, due to our server being down.... again! ---

I can't write about anything other than the terrible tragedy of last Thursday night.

A brutal Arab terrorist walked into the Merkaz HaRav Yeshiva, and machine gunned the yeshiva students, killing 8, and wounding 11 (reports about the number of wounded vary).

I had plans for Thursday night: KAA just turned 40 and I invited her and LF to come over and celebrate! We planned a fun & light-hearted "girl's night out" (more accurately a "girl's night in"). LF brought all the fixings for ice cream sundaes, and KAA brought a great selection of "chick flicks". We never got around to watching a film. We were having such a good time talking and laughing, we decided to forgo the movie and just enjoy sharing thoughts and stories.

The evening was filled with laughter and good humor... until we learned of the terrorist attack, as it was still going on.

Then, what could we talk about? What could we laugh about?

The rest of the evening, as we learned what happened, our conversation turned to living with fear and terror, and the frustrations of living under a government that does not protect its citizens.

We talked about hope for the future, we talked about Jewish leadership, we talked about how nice it must be to be a leftist and believe that it is up to us to create peace, how much easier it is to live with cognitive dissonance and believe that peace is in our control, rather than live with the knowledge that no matter what we do, the Arabs will hate us and seek to destroy us.

"I believe that the "amcha" (the common people) are like us, that they just want to live in peace," said one of my friends.

I used to believe that too.

But, I ask you, where are the Arab peace movements? Where are the bereavement support groups for mothers of suicide bombers? Where are the parents protesting what Arab children are learning in kindergarten (to grow up and be suicide bombers) or watching on TV (that the best thing they can do is to kill Jews)? Where is the outrage when other Arabs go out and slaughter Jews?

Why does the world tolerate this silence?

I am sick and tired of hearing excuses like "They have to say that," or "They can't speak out."

What happened to social responsibility and social accountability?

As Edmund Burke said, "All that is necessary for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing."

It's time to stop excusing the Arabs as if they were weak-minded and stupid.

The Arabs are clever and strong.

The reason that they say what they say is because they mean it.

They want to kill us. They want to destroy us. They do not want to live in peace.

They have a different worldview and it is time we let go of our colonialist attitude that if we just "educate them" then they will want peace. We need to recognize that these people have their own, very different, worldview, and they have a sophisticated plan for achieving their goal.

And let's face the facts: they are winning.

Israel is the only place in the world where Jews can be killed just because they are Jews and NOTHING HAPPENS.

As we were discussing all this, Y came home from babysitting.

She needed to re-adjust her plans for the next day, since she would not be able to take busses under the current circumstances.

"It's not fair," Y protested.

"It's not fair," KAA concurred.

"It's not fair," I echoed.

What else could we say? It wasn't fair.

I felt bad for Y. And I felt bad to be the one limiting her.

It's not fair that she has to grow up like this.

It's not fair that our government does not protect us.

It's not fair that Y (and MD, and A) will always remember guards in front of kindergartens and restaurants.

Israel wasn't always like this.

It used to be safe to eat in restaurants. It used to be safe to ride on busses. It used to be safe to walk in the Arab marketplace. It used to be safe to drive through Arab towns. It used to be safe to hike in nature without a gun.

On Shabbat, shul (synagogue) announcements were framed by Thursday's incident. First, the acknowledgement that it is difficult to deal with Thursday's terrible event. Then, information about various simchas (celebrations), like births and weddings. Then, a public request that members of our shul (synagogue), who own weapons, bring them to davening (prayers).

I don't know why I was surprised.

It makes sense.

We are all at risk.

Still, it makes me sad.

It's just not fair.

Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,

Tuesday, March 4, 2008

The Perfect Risk Game

When I made Aliyah, I came with a trunk (the same one I took to camp 10 years earlier) and a knapsack.

(It's kind of mindboggling to think about what I've accumulated since then....)

Anyway, I brought only a few essential books (The Tao of Pooh, Free to Be You and Me, The New Our Bodies Ourselves [which a friend gave to me at my Aliyah party], Kodokan Judo, A siddur [prayer book] and a Chumash [Bible]).

I also brought my favorite game: Risk.

Sometime during my first or second year in Israel, I played my last Risk game.

It was while I was living in the Katamonim, back when we were the ONLY Angos living in the Katamonim. (If you walked down Antigonus Street and asked where the "Americaim" lived, you would be directed to our place).

We were four players. Three women (two Barnard graduates) and one man.

During the first half of the game, we women united and pushed our male friend off the map.

Then, we each conquered two continents and declared world peace.

Interestingly, we are ALL still friends today.

Obvious Conclusion: If women ruled, there would be world peace.

We played the ultimate Risk game.

It just doesn't get better than that.

Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,

Saturday, March 1, 2008

Precious Moments

Y has a big test in Navi (Prophets) coming up.

(Actually, she has many big tests coming up and she is studying ALL the time).

Moshe spent all afternoon studying Yirmiyahu (The Book of Jeremiah) with her.

By the end of Shabbat, Moshe & Y had only covered about half of the material.

A discussion ensued about whether or not to watch Star Trek tonight.

A while ago, we established an "official policy" that, even if someone would miss out, we would show Star Trek to whoever was home/available. The person/people, who missed it, could watch the episode during the week.

Y was not happy about the prospect of missing Star Trek.

As she was making her case, MD came over and quietly stated that he did not want to watch Star Trek if Y wasn't able to see it.

His gentle but determined support of his sister engendered respect and appreciation.

Almost as if he felt he had to justify this unconditional generosity, MD explained that last week, when Moshe helped him prepare his "Bamah Ishit" (Personal Project) about Lag B'Omer, we all postponed watching Battlestar Galactica. MD felt it was only fair to extend the same courtesy to Y.

Whatever the reason, his devotion to his sister filled me with parental pride.

God bless my children! May they always be so attentive and caring about each other!

Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,