Nine Days

The following touching article was written by Avigayil B. of Lakewood, NJ and posted with permission.

Nine Days Menu Ideas

Have your ever gone to be menachem Avel a woman who lost her young husband?
Have your ever been in a shiva home where a woman is mourning the loss of her vibrant father? Have you ever offered comfort to a girl who lost her mother?

Sadly, all of us have been in these situations. We come, carrying pans of food and we leave the offerings of our heart on the overflowing counters and tables.

But, take a look at the aveilim. The young woman , with the seven orphaned children. Is she talking about the Pistachio Sea Bass ? If she is, everyone understands that it's just to divert her mind from her burning pain.

All year, we divert our mind from our loss.

Sure, most of us fast on Tisha B'Av , and we all have a Zecher L'Churban in our foyer. But really, when is the last time we cried as we davened that Hashem should return us to Eretz Yisroel?

Once a year, we get a chance to seriously focus on our huge loss. The tragedy of being sent away from our land where we all lived together and Torah was the law of the land.

Our Chachomim knew that's as time would go by, It would be hard for us to cry and feel the pain of all that was taken away from us.

So they gave us laws that would help put us In a mourning mood.
No meat! No chicken! No wine! No grape juice!

There are so many other laws , but for now let's look at these.

A succulent standing rib roast, a glazed roasted turkey, lamb chops and grilled baby chicken; we don't prepare these foods unless it's for a Seudas mitzva or a Siyum.

So what should we eat in the Nine Days?

Well, how about Roasted Portabella with marinated Goat Cheese and Arugula over artisanal bread?

What about Authentic hand rolled Tortellini with homemade Tomato  and just snipped Basil sauce?

Is this really what Chazal had in mind?

Was it just a change in menu?

We used to be so close to Avinu Shebashamayim. We visited our father in His House!

We saw, heard, smelled and tasted His presence. We knew with every part of our body that He loves us.
We left His House with gifts. Gifts of awareness and clarity that held us until we came again. And when we missed our Father so much and we couldn't visit, we had a Neviah. She told us what our Father wants.She told us how to be a better wife, mother and daughter. And it was way different than therapy. When we listened to the Neviah, we had success in every relationship. Oh! How painful is this void!

Here we are searching for answers wishing we could have this type of guidance.

Every tragedy today has its roots in the Churban.

Have some sun dried tomato tilapia?

We are in pain! And if we aren't , we are to act like we are.

Eating gourmet foods? Dining in fine restaurants? Standing and assembling complicated dairy recipes?!

Not for us. Those recipes are for Shavuos.

These Nine Days I want to focus and think. I want to feel what I have lost.

We are mourning. We lost our husband, mother, and father.

And so my dear sisters, what do you eat when you're writhing in pain and sadness? What do you cook when you are so depressed that tears are falling into your pots?

What do you serve your family when grief is so strong it surrounds you?

A tuna wrap. Eggs. Macaroni and cheese. Pizza.

Anything that takes fifteen minutes to prepare.

No one will starve. And if the kids ask, "Why are we having scrambled eggs and toast for supper?"

Look at them in their eyes.

And say,"Cuz I'm sad. And I can't eat or cook fancy foods when I'm sad."

And maybe then we and our families will feel the sadness of the Churban and be zoche to see the words of our Neviim come true, and eat with happiness on the new Yom Tov on our calendar: Tisha B'Av.

Comfort

I posted this last year and wanted to share the message with you once again.

There are some contradictions in the halachos of Tisha B'av that make one wonder about the nature of the day. On one hand, we act like mourners, sit on low chairs, do not wear leather shoes and do not greet one another with a friendly "hello". On the other hand, Tisha B'av is called a Mo'ed, a yom tov-not only because it will be a yom tov when moshiach comes, but because now it can be viewed as a festival. This is why men do not say tachanun-a tefillah that is not recited on yomim tovim and other days of celebration.

How can Tisha B'av be viewed as a festival? Where is the joy in this sad day? And what can we take from the intense mourning of this day...that will bring us some measure of comfort?

The Chasam Sofer explains something interesting about the fact that we still mourn for the Beis Hamikdosh so many years after it was destroyed. There have been many nations in the history of the world who have gone through loss and destruction, yet none of them mourn; they have all been forgotten with the passage of time. Egypt, Spain, Rome-each nation had their high point and then fell. But we, the Jewish People, not only are we still around, but we still cry over our loss, so many years later. 

Why?

Our chachamim tell us that there is a gezeirah, a decree from Hashem, that the memory of one who died will fade as time goes on. It is possible for someone who experienced the loss of the death of a loved one to be consoled, to move on and even...even to forget. But because of this same gezeira, if someone mourns someone who they think is dead but really is alive, they will never be able to be consoled. No words, no stories, no inspiration...even the passage of time will ever comfort them. They will not be able to overcome this grief.

In the same way, other nations who have lost their power and greatness, who lost their country, who are no longer a People, can be consoled; they can overcome their loss...because their loss is final, it is complete. There is no hope for them. They will never be able to go back to their previous glory. The status they once held is considered "dead" and they become forgotten as time goes on.

However, the Jewish People can never be consoled over the loss of the Beis Hamikdosh. 

As it says in Megillas Eichah, ein la menachem-they have no one to comfort them. I always saw this as something so sad...for a different reason. When my family sat shiva for my brother, the stream of people coming to comfort us didn't stop. So many people came to try to offer words of consolation and to be there for us, with us in our pain. But when the Beis Hamikdosh was destroyed, there was no one to comfort the Jews-for they were all in the same boat. They were all hurting. They were all experiencing famine, death and loss. Who could offer words of comfort in such a setting? No one. They were all in it together.

But that's not what the Chasam Sofer is saying. He takes a whole different spin on that phrase. Why can we not be comforted over the destruction of the Beis Hamikdosh? 

Why?

Because it is not a permanent destruction. It is not a permanent loss. No matter how much time passes, our hearts still ache, our souls still yearn to return...because we will return. We cannot forget the pain...because it is not a permanent "death", it is but a temporary loss.

As it says in the first passuk in Eichah, ha'ir rabasi am, haysah k'almanah-the city that was great with people has become like a widow. And Rashi says, she is like a widow...but she is not really a widow. She is like a woman whose husband went to a foreign city with the intention of returning to her.

The very fact that we are still crying on Tisha B'av, that we still mourn the loss of the Beis Hamikdosh, that we still long for and hope to return to Yerushalayim, is in itself the greatest source of consolation. The greatest nechama.

This is the reason why Tisha B'av is referred to as a mo'ed, a yom tov, and why those tefillos that are not recited on festivals are omitted on this day. We can feel comforted and yes, even rejoice inside while we mourn...for we know that it is specifically because we are still mourning that we know we will once again return...return to our Father, return to our Land and return to the former glory we as a nation once had.

This shabbos, Shabbos Nachamu, is a time when we can find comfort in the fact that we are still here. We spent Tisha B'av in a mode of longing and yearning, as we (hopefully) cried, wished and hoped for the geula. Although we are still waiting for that day to come, we can be comforted by the fact that it will come...that we have never forgotten...and that our Nation is still alive.

May we be zoche to experience the true nechama and live to see the day come when Kol Hamisabel Al Yerushalayim...all those who mourn over the rebuilding of Yerushalayim...will actually see and experience the joy when the Beis Hamikdosh will finally be rebuilt!

Comfort

There are some contradictions in the halachos of Tisha B'av that make one wonder about the nature of the day. On one hand, we act like mourners, sit on low chairs, do not wear leather shoes and do not greet one another with a friendly "hello". On the other hand, Tisha B'av is called a Mo'ed, a yom tov-not only because it will be a yom tov when moshiach comes, but because now it can be viewed as a festival. This is why men do not say tachanun-a tefillah that is not recited on yomim tovim and other days of celebration.

How can Tisha B'av be viewed as a festival? Where is the joy in this sad day? And what can we take from the intense mourning of this day...that will bring us some measure of comfort?

The Chasam Sofer explains something interesting about the fact that we still mourn for the Beis Hamikdosh so many years after it was destroyed. There have been many nations in the history of the world who have gone through loss and destruction, yet none of them mourn; they have all been forgotten with the passage of time. Egypt, Spain, Rome-each nation had their high point and then fell. But we, the Jewish People, not only are we still around, but we still cry over our loss, so many years later. 

Why?

Our chachamim tell us that there is a gezeirah, a decree from Hashem, that the memory of one who died will fade as time goes on. It is possible for someone who experienced the loss of the death of a loved one to be consoled, to move on and even...even to forget. But because of this same gezeira, if someone mourns someone who they think is dead but really is alive, they will never be able to be consoled. No words, no stories, no inspiration...even the passage of time will ever comfort them. They will not be able to overcome this grief.

In the same way, other nations who have lost their power and greatness, who lost their country, who are no longer a People, can be consoled; they can overcome their loss...because their loss is final, it is complete. There is no hope for them. They will never be able to go back to their previous glory. The status they once held is considered "dead" and they become forgotten as time goes on.

However, the Jewish People can never be consoled over the loss of the Beis Hamikdosh. 

As it says in Megillas Eichah, ein la menachem-they have no one to comfort them. I always saw this as something so sad...for a different reason. When my family sat shiva for my brother, the stream of people coming to comfort us didn't stop. So many people came to try to offer words of consolation and to be there for us, with us in our pain. But when the Beis Hamikdosh was destroyed, there was no one to comfort the Jews-for they were all in the same boat. They were all hurting. They were all experiencing famine, death and loss. Who could offer words of comfort in such a setting? No one. They were all in it together.

But that's not what the Chasam Sofer is saying. He takes a whole different spin on that phrase. Why can we not be comforted over the destruction of the Beis Hamikdosh? 

Why?

Because it is not a permanent destruction. It is not a permanent loss. No matter how much time passes, our hearts still ache, our souls still yearn to return...because we will return. We cannot forget the pain...because it is not a permanent "death", it is but a temporary loss.

As it says in the first passuk in Eichah, ha'ir rabasi am, haysah k'almanah-the city that was great with people has become like a widow. And Rashi says, she is like a widow...but she is not really a widow. She is like a woman whose husband went to a foreign city with the intention of returning to her.

The very fact that we are still crying on Tisha B'av, that we still mourn the loss of the Beis Hamikdosh, that we still long for and hope to return to Yerushalayim, is in itself the greatest source of consolation. The greatest nechama.

This is the reason why Tisha B'av is referred to as a mo'ed, a yom tov, and why those tefillos that are not recited on festivals are omitted on this day. We can feel comforted and yes, even rejoice inside while we mourn...for we know that it is specifically because we are still mourning that we know we will once again return...return to our Father, return to our Land and return to the former glory we as a nation once had.

This shabbos, Shabbos Nachamu, is a time when we can find comfort in the fact that we are still here. We spent Tisha B'av in a mode of longing and yearning, as we (hopefully) cried, wished and hoped for the geula. Although we are still waiting for that day to come, we can be comforted by the fact that it will come...that we have never forgotten...and that our Nation is still alive.

May we be zoche to experience the true nechama and live to see the day come when Kol Hamisabel Al Yerushalayim...all those who mourn over the rebuilding of Yerushalayim...will actually see and experience the joy when the Beis Hamikdosh will finally be rebuilt!

Dear Precious Neshama

Dear Precious Neshama,

So many people are mourning your loss. People who didn't know your family, and who surely didn't get to know you in the short time you spent here on this earth.

But your story is touching so many.

You are proof, once again, of how much we humans cannot understand.

Your short life is one big mystery...in our little minds.

One big question mark.

One big question.

A question that cannot be answered.

Why?

Why so much pain?

Why were you put into this world for such a short amount of time...only to return to shamayim without doing, without accomplishing?

There is no one to sit shiva for you. No one to mourn your loss.

So instead, all of us are mourning.

All of us are crying.

All of us are in pain.

But you, you have accomplished whatever you were put here to do. You didn't need as much time as the rest of us. You had to take a measured amount of breaths in this world...and then you were ready to ascend to the next world.

You are so pure, shining little soul.

You are so completely clean, precious neshama.

You are so holy.

You were encased in holiness in those few months that your mother carried you, spending all your time learning with a malach...all you would have to know.

What did you learn in there, little neshama?

What did the malach teach you?

What did you need to learn if you were going to be taken so soon after your body entered this world?

So many questions.

I certainly don't have answers.

Little neshama, now you are in a lofty place. You are together with your parents, together with your mother, together with your father...and together with our tatte in himmel, the only Father each of us can call our own.

You are so close to kedusha. You are in a place of clarity.

You understand everything we wish we can understand.

Precious, shining neshama, can you please have a little conversation with your Father, with my Father, with Our Father?

Can you please ask Him to put an end to our pain? An end to our suffering?

Can you please ask Him to replace our tears of sorrow, of anguish and of despair...with tears of joy, of happiness and of hope?

We've been hoping for so long. We've been waiting for too long.

Don't you think it's time?

Precious neshama, I know you can hear me. Please...I wish I can hear your answer.

Comfort During Shiva

Today, Tisha b'av is the saddest day of the year.

This morning, while I sat on the floor, I remembered the time I sat in a low chair sitting shiva for my younger brother. We are now sitting shiva-for what? For the bais hamikdosh.

I wanted to explain this to my little son but he is so young, how can he understand? I did manage to explain it to him-by bringing it down to his level.

Today is a very sad day. You know, Hashem had a very beautiful house. It was so big and so special-it was like a shul. And all the people would come there and daven to Hashem. And then, you know what happened?

My son looked at me with his big, innocent eyes.

Hashem's house got broken.

He looked devastated.

"Oiy!" he said.

And we need to fix it.
How can we fix Hashem's house? It was such a special place, so big, so beautiful and so full of people. And now it is broken. What can we do to fix it?

He looked at me as I told him, we need to be very nice to our sister, we need to try to be extra good to mommy and always listen. We do mitzvos and make Tatty and Mommy happy by always listening and helping and acting very gentle with our little sister. This is how we can fix Hashem's beautiful house.

He had this faraway look in his eyes.

I think he got it.

My eyes teared up.

* * *

When I read Eichah last night, there was one thought that kept coming up again and again, in different phrases.

"Ein La Menachem" - she does not have anyone to comfort her.

I thought about these words and I cried.

After the destruction of Hashem's home, His palace, there was nobody to offer any sort of comfort...and I imagined...and I remembered.

When my family sat shiva for my brother Shalom a"h, people kept streaming into our home to try to comfort us, to try to say something that will bring us some sort of nechama. The house was busy from the moment we got up until we were so wiped out from another day of talking and emotional memories...it made us tired. But, there was a constant flow of people...they kept coming.

After the bais hamikdosh was destroyed, there was no one! No one came to comfort Hashem...no one was able to comfort the Jewish Nation. All around them there was destruction. A building, not just a building, a home for the shechina, a place of clarity, a place of real beauty, a place of connection...all gone...burned...so many dead people all over the streets, little children dying in their mother's laps, people collapsing and passing out from hunger...from thirst...children who grew up in rich homes asking for drinks of wine when there was no water to be found...

And there was nobody to comfort them.

When someone goes to be menachem avel, these are the words they use to comfort the mourner: Hamakom yenacheim eschem b'soch she'ar aveilei tzion v'yerushalayim.
What does this phrase mean?

When we sat shiva, someone told us a beautiful way of explaining it.

One of the names of Hashem is Makom, like we say in the haggadah, Baruch Hamakom...Makom means place and Hashem takes up all the space in the world yet at the same time, He doesn't take up any space at all. This is a deep concept and we can't even understand exactly what it means - but this is part of Hashem's G-dliness. On one hand He is everywhere and takes up every inch of space in this world-wherever you go, Hashem is there---and on the other hand, He does not take up any space. This is why Hashem's name is Makom.

When a person loses someone close to them, there is a tremendous void in their heart. So we tell them, Hamakom yenacheim eschem-only Hashem who is called Hamakom can comfort you. He can fill the void.

So why do we end with b'soch she'ar aveilei tzion v'yerushalayim?

Because when someone passes away, all the family wants is to get to see them again and spend time with them again. When will that happen? When moshiach comes! So we say, you should be comforted together with all those who mourn for Yerushalayim-because as we know, whoever mourns for Yerushalayim will be zoche to see it rebuilt.

But how can someone live until that time? How can they go on? How can they be comforted during this long wait? By filling that deep emptiness that is in their hearts with spirituality, by doing mitzvos that will make the niftar's neshama go higher.

We had so many people come to comfort us when we sat shiva. But Hashem has still not been comforted, the Jewish People have not been comforted.
We are all waiting for the day of ultimate geula, the real redemption and ultimate nechama, the real consolation.

May that day come when all those families who have mourned for their siblings, parents, grandparents, children and grandchildren are reunited with their loved ones...and Klal Yisroel is reunited with Hakadosh Baruch Hu.

One last point: The purpose of a fast day is not just to refrain from eating - but to bring us to do teshuva. Each person has to think - what am I doing that is keeping the bais hamikdosh from being rebuilt? It's a strong question. Come up with an answer and then...do something about it.

My Father is Sitting Shiva

My father is sitting shiva.

It's a scary thought. One day, I'll be sitting shiva for him, talking about him and the things we can learn from his life.

At the levaya, when my father tore his shirt and asked his father for forgiveness, I was very shaken up.

It shook me to the core.

One day, I will have to ask my father for mechilla. Do I treat him perfectly? Do I honor and respect him to the degree that I should? Do I listen to him when he talks to me and repeats a long dvar torah or do I sometimes tune out and tell him at the end that that's a really nice thought?

It's a wake up call.

I need to check if my bein adam l'chaveiro is in perfect order or if there are things that could be fixed up a little bit.

I shouldn't have to wait until Elul to ask other people for forgiveness.

I should do things properly in the first place so that I don't have to ask them at all. If I treated everyone the way I should, there would be no need to say I'm sorry.

This is a powerful lesson for all of us.

Let's not wait until it's too late to ask for forgiveness.

Let's treat people properly, with respect, love and sensitivity.