First Night, First Light

I love my Sunday morning shiur! (Jewish Studies class)

Only one problem -- I haven't gone in about two years!

I was determined to start attending regularly, as soon as this school year started. But.... well.... now that Sundays and Mondays are my only "functioning" days, it's especially difficult to “give up” one of my mornings.

Still, I feel much better when I am learning (Torah) on a regular basis.

Not to mention that I love the shiur. And I love the woman who gives the shiur (brilliant, learned, dynamic, charistmatic -- you name it, she's got it! And she's a "feminist" and "right wing" -- and how many of those are there!?)

In short, I am rather in awe of this woman.

Anyway, we were privileged to attend the very special wedding of her youngest son this evening, the first night of Hanukah.

When we arrived, I was surprised to meet several friends from Ginot Shomron, which, it turns out, is the kallah’s (bride's) home town. Cool.

Ginot Shomron is a large yishuv (town) in the Shomron, near Petach Tikvah. One of the beautiful neighborhoods in the yishuv, Neve Aliza, is quite reminiscent of our home town: Teaneck, NJ. Beautiful houses, front lawns and back yards, and quiet, tree lined streets, where kids can play (without fear of being run over).

After expressions of mutual surprise and pleasure at meeting, one friend after the other protested: "You haven’t posted in a week! I check every day and there has been nothing new since you wrote about Hareisha!"

Wow!!

How nice to know!

So now, as was pointed out to me, I absolutely had to post before going to bed.

So, dear friends, I want to wish you all a Hanukah Sameach! (Happy Chanukah)

May the light from our candles shine forth and brighten this world.


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

With love and optimism,
RivkA

Hareisha

From the hilltop where my sister-in-law lives, you can see the entire Israeli coast-line, from Haifa to Ashdod.

It's pretty amazing.

To drive there, you drive through Talmon, up past an army base, then up and up and up and up.
Hareisha is a tiny yishuv on a mountain top. 25 young families, living in caravans.

My SIL and her family found this warm and welcoming community after they were kicked out of their home in Neve Dekalim.

They have re-established their home inside two carravans. My daughter, A, commented that they have a beautiful home. My SIL laughed, "we live in a cardboard box". Nonetheless, it's true, my SIL created a beautiful home inside her cardboard box. "We worked hard to make it nice," she added.

Over Shabbat, with our two families crowded into their modest home, we enjoyed watching the children play.

On a quiet and serene mountaintop, there is nothing more beautiful than the pure sound of children's laughter.



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

With love and optimism,
RivkA

Thanksgiving 2007

I love Thanksgiving!

I love being with family & friends, and celebrating America, and being grateful for all that God has given us.

This year, for the first time since I made Aliyah, I did not spend Thanksgiving with other bogrei (graduates of) NATIV (I came to Israel for the first time on NATIV, a one-year program that combined studying at Hebrew University and working on Kibbutz Sa'ad, a religious kibbutz in the Negev). Every year, bogrei NATIV gather to celebrate Thanksgiving together. It is a great way to stay in touch with old friends. And it is exciting to see how the program has grown and how many bogrim (graduates) there are living in Israel.

This year, good friends of ours, T & J, have just returned to Israel, from 10 years in the US. They invited many of their "old" friends for Thanksgiving dinner. Over the years, before they went to the US, many of us had spent previous Thanksgivings with them. It was a joyous reunion to be together again.

Our kids hit it off with T & J's kids. Their son, Y, is a big Star Wars fan. So Y & MD had plenty to talk about! Of course, being boys, they still found time to harass the girls.... But, for the most part, the kids basically disappeared into their own world for the entire evening.

It was a wonderful evening, filled with good company, good conversation, good food and lots of warmth.

We have so much for which to be Thankful.


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

With love and optimism,
RivkA

Where R U??

"So," said today's chemo date, "where should I meet you?"

"On the 7th floor. Are you there already?" I ask, still at least 20 minutes away from the hospital.

"I got here early and I'm in the lobby, should I wait for you here?" she responded cheerfully.

"You could, but I might not come into the hospital from that floor," I answer, wondering where it's best for her to wait. "There is a waiting area in the entrance to the oncology ward," I inform her.

"I'll go up and wait for you there," she says decisively.

A few minutes later, my phone rings again.

"Where did you say to go?" asks my friend, sounding confused.

"To the seventh floor -- the oncology day ward" I repeat.

"I'm on the seventh floor and I can't seem to find it," says my friend, still sounding cheerfull, and a bit lost, "maybe I went up the wrong elevators?"

"Are you by the clinics?" I ask, trying to remember if the floors go up that high in that section of the hospital.

"I'm definitely not by the clinics." She answers definitively.

"Then you have to be in the right place," I answer, confused.

"I don't see any signs that say oncology," she says, "I must be in the wrong place."

"The signs should be right opposite the elevators," I say, wondering how it's possible not to see them. "Ask someone who works there," I advise, in an attempt to help my friend.

"I must be in the wrong place," she repeats....

There is a pause, and then it occurs to me....

"You are in Sha'are Tzedek?" I ask, hoping the question is rhetorical.

"Well, that explains it," says my friend laughing, "I'm in Ein Karem."

"Not to worry," she continues,"I'll hop on another bus and meet you soon."

"OK," I say, not sure what else to do, but feeling a bit guilty over the mix-up.

A few minutes later, my phone rings again.

"Do me a favor..." my friend asks sheepishly.

"Sure, what can I do for you?" I answer, eager to do something.

"Please don't write about this on your blog."


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

With love and optimism,
RivkA

Chills - part II (and Imago)

I'm feeling much better, thanks -- but not quite yet 100%.

Last Wednesday, after sleeping in all morning and early afternoon, I felt quite better by mid-afternoon.

So Moshe and I went out, as planned, to the first session of the Imago Couples Workshop at Ma'agan. We were five couples altogether. Most of the couples were young, like us. I knew one of the couples (the wife was in the Art of Living Course with me; she told me about the Imago workshop), but Moshe hadn't met either of them before. Everyone seemed nice, but a bit reserved. The instructors were very warm and welcoming; both are also cancer survivors.

The first questions we were asked is: what makes us happy/enjoy life?

I was surprised at my immediate response: analyzing TV shows with Moshe. After that, of course, is camping - which is my all-time favorite activity. And then there is: water -- teaching, swimming, and just being in the water.

I was equally surprised by Moshe's response: the act of creating; of building something, and building it well. Like what he does at work (programming); and what he does when he prepares a d'var Torah. He added that he also really enjoys analyzing shows with me. (but not camping)
:-}

Afterwards, we played a name-game: we stood in a circle and tossed a balloon to another person, saying that person's name aloud. By the end, we were all laughing, and we all knew everyone's name. It was fun.

Then we did a number of excersizes about communication. It was a pleasant experience. Both Moshe and I left feeling close to each other, and also to the group. I look forward to our next meeting.

At home, I stayed up a bit longer doing this and that. Until, quite suddendly, I felt terribly cold and went straight to bed with the chills. Despite the piles of blankets, I could not get warm.

In the morning, I went to the doctor again. This morning, I still had a fever. The doctor on call took a blood test, told me he would confer with my regular GP and also with the oncologist, and then he or my regular doctor would get back to me.

By the time my doctor called back, I had a high fever (40+) and couldn't even talk on the phone.
Now, when I am too sick to talk on the phone, then I am really sick!

The doctor called Moshe, and Moshe picked up a prescription for the super-duper anti-biotics.

Well, four days later, I don't know what is knocking me out: the chemo, the cold, or the anti-biotics.

My fever is down, I feel much better, but I am still weak and exhausted.

I had to cancel swimming lessons, which is always disappointing. I really love "my" kids, and I miss them. But I am still too tired to teach.

And tomorrow is chemo day....


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

With love and optimism,
RivkA

Chills

Last night, I had terrible chills.

I wondered if it was a "new" side effect of the chemo.

It turns out that I just have a common cold.

I think people with cancer should be exempt from the common cold.

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

With love and optimism,
RivkA

Night Mirrors

One of the pleasures of parenthood is hearing (and reading) the "mistakes" that our children make in the language that they use.

Sometimes their mistakes seem more accurate than the actual word or phrase.

For example, in our home, we don't eat "mashed potatoes", but rather "smashed potatoes."

And our children don't have "nightmares" they have "night mirrors" -- reflections of bad thoughts that have somehow invaded their dreams.

I had forgotten about this clever phrase until this evening, when A saw something that my mom was watching on TV and protested that it would give her "night mirrors".

(yet another reason why I don't like the TV to be on when the kids are up....)

Her response made me think about the difficulty that I've had falling asleep these past three nights.

On Sunday, I had a test called: MUGA (Multiple Gated Acquisition Scan). The MUGA checks to see how one's heart is functioning. Herceptin can damage the heart, and my doctor wanted to make sure that I don't have any heart damage, before I had another dose of Herceptin. My heart is fine, thank God!!

(keep davening, 'cause He sure is listening!!)

Anyway, afterwards I met with a friend, JM, for lunch. We had a wonderful time discussing all sorts of things. Towards the end, I must have mentioned the book I'm currently reading: Take Off Your Party Dress -- When Life's Too Busy For Breast Cancer, by Dina Rabinovitch. The author's brother lives on the same yishuv as my friend. JM mentioned something about when the brother sat Shiv'a (the seven day Jewish morning period). "For whom?" I asked. "Oh, I'm so sorry...," said my friend, " I thought you knew.... she died two weeks ago..."

I didn't know Dina Rabinovitch. But I had heard about her blog "Take Off Your Running Shoes" -- it was recommended as an upbeat account of dealing with cancer. I hadn't read the blog, but I was enjoying the upbeat nature of the book. And I related to many of the experiences that the author shared.

As with any well-written autobiography, the more we read, the more we feel that we "know" the author. Perhaps I felt that even stronger because of the Jewish/Israel connection.

All I know is that I suddenly felt like crying. But I couldn't just burst out bawling in the middle of the mall!

I kept busy for the rest of that day. I was scheduled to give a Tupperware Party at a friend's home later that evening, and I couldn't do it if I was down in the dumps. I forced myself to focus. The party was a lot of fun and helped raise my spirit. There were about 15 women, most of whom I knew from different walks of my life, and it was quite a social event!

I came home late and tired, but in a good mood.

I hoped to accomplish a few tasks quickly and then go to bed. Unfortunately, my poor son was sick and needed TLC. By the time Moshe and I took care of him and I finished my few tasks (which took longer, because of the late hour, and my mental and physical exhaustion), I was unbelievably tired. I was certain that I would fall asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

But when I finally fell into bed, I couldn't turn off my mind. I kept thinking about Dina Rabinovitch... I wanted to cry, and mourn, but I didn't know how. Who am I anyway? I don't even know her.

There are no answers to these questions. And, sometimes, there is no ignoring the dark cloud that lurks in the distance. But I did need to sleep.

So I practiced the breathing I learned in The Art of Living course. I tried to calm my mind and my body. It took a while, but I eventually fell into a deep sleep.

As I tried to shut out the reflections of my mind, I prayed that there would be no "night mirrors" to disturb my sleep.


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

With love and optimism,
RivkA