Grief and the Passage of Time

It's interesting.

People who haven't visited grief may not be able to relate to this fully. But I still feel a need to explain it. Maybe my words will help them understand. 

And maybe this can help them relate to something deeper.

The more time that passes since my younger brother's death, the more it hurts.

No, not in the intense way it hurt in the beginning, when I cried so much that I didn't know I had the capacity to contain so many tears in my body. 

Not in the way my heart hurt so strongly. Not in the way I felt this ache inside of me, a physical sensation that stayed with me no matter where I went.

None of that.

What hurts so much is that the more time that passes since my brother's death, the more I think about how much he missed out on and how much could have been different if only he was still here.

I think about where he'd be in life and wonder, what kind of girl would he have married? How many kids would they have had by now? Would we still be as close as we were when we were teens? Where would he live? How much would we share? How often would we talk?

I also think about all the milestones he's missed and all the small and big parts of my life I haven't been able to share with him. 

And that hurts.

A lot. 

I imagine how much my life would be different with my brother in it. How much joy and laughter we'd share if he lived nearby, if we'd be able to spend time together and be in each other's company. 

And that makes me reflect upon Hashem and the beis hamikdosh we mourn. While we wish for it to be rebuilt, every year that passes without it only intensifies the grief and mourning.

Another year without the beis hamikdosh? Another year without connection, closeness and clarity? Another year sitting in this galus, distant, disconnected and full of dread for the upcoming fast day?

What would life be like if we had the beis hamikdosh? How would life be different for us if we were living the ideal life and were closer and more connected to Hashem through every milestone and every challenge? Can we even imagine?

Every year that passes without my brother in it makes me miss him more and wish he were here. And it makes me wonder how my life would be so different if he was in it.

Every year that passes without the closeness that geula affords us makes me yearn for it even more deeply. I wonder what my life would look like if I was able to live with the clarity and bond that is only possible once we are out of this galus.

I yearn for more.

My heart aches for change.

My insides desire something so different. 

I imagine a time when we will be able to go to the beis hamikdosh and listen to the beautiful notes of the levi'im, playing their soulful instruments and singing their touching songs and we will be transformed and elevated to a different plane. And we will connect, reflect and be moved to a different realm of existence. Music will become a meditation. Songs will heal our aching souls. Harmony will allow us to reach a state words alone could never accomplish. 

What would our life be like if we had this all along?

That question hurts.

And it hurts more deeply every year.

Because we're still here.

And we long for more.

We yearn for something so much deeper than what we have now.

And the possibility that we could have had it but still live without it makes the yearning that much stronger, that much more intense.

So yes, the more time that passes since my brother's death, the more it hurts. Because I realize that another year passed without him in it and as much as I imagine my life along with him right here, it's still a dream.

And the more time that passes without the rebuilding of the beis hamikdosh, the more it hurts. Because I realize that another year has passed without the closeness and relationship I yearn so deeply for.

Hashem…we are waiting. 

We are hoping.

We are dreaming.

We are praying.

We are doing the best we can.

We want to be closer to you. 

Even with all the distractions.

Don't you see it?

Don't you see our desire?

How much longer will we have to wait?

To Magnify-The Nine Days

So, the nine days are coming and I don't think I took even one minute in the past two weeks to think about this time of year, what it means and what feelings should be coming up. I've just been so busy. My thoughts have been occupied with all the things I need to do to fulfill my responsibilities towards my family-and none, not even one thought was about the pain of galus and the tza'ar hashechina. How crazy is that? Probably super normal for a galus mom.

Maybe this is why we shift from the three weeks to the nine days in this way, from less intense laws of mourning to stronger ones. In case we were too busy with life during the beginning of the three weeks, we now have a reminder that there really is something to think about. There is something to be feeling during this time. We need to phase into a new level of thought so we can arouse our souls to get to a place of feeling the pain of galus without outside tzaros and crazy painful stories in the news and in the world!

Maybe this is why we mourn in reverse. Maybe it's because Hashem is waking us up to His pain-first with a soft tap, then with a light knock (the nine days) and then with a loud shout (Tisha b'av), saying, "Helllooo! I am in pain! Feel my pain with me!" And maybe we should be feeling the pain more intensely as time passes. Because as the time does pass and we acknowledge that we are still in galus, the pain should also intensify. It should hurt us even more because, like, hello?! Are we still here? How is it that we are still here? Are we ever going to get out?

After all these years, will it ever happen?

As Jews, we believe it will. That's what shabbos nachamu is all about. The prophecies about the destruction came true, and so we believe (and ask Hashem to help us continue to believe) that the prophecies about the redemption will also be fulfilled. We just don't know when it will happen so that makes it so hard. And that's where the challenge to continue to believe takes place!

I feel like its somewhat easier for me to feel pain-because I went through my own loss. So I take my emotions surrounding the death of my brother and connect them to the bigger loss of Klal Yisroel during the time of the churban.

I lost one brother and it was so incredibly painful; it still is, when I let myself feel it.

During the destruction of the bais hamikdosh, every Jew experienced multiple losses. So many Jews died of starvation and thirst. Mothers consumed their babies! The devastation was enormous. I try to magnify my loss a hundred times over to feel what took place during the churban. 

But there's more. More I want to feel. Not just my own loss magnified (because that's kind of a selfish sort of pain), but I want to connect to what we had.

That clarity, that holy connection to the Source of all life, I want that.

When I was in the holy land, Eretz Yisroel, I was able to connect to a piece of that. And the clarity I felt there, the connection I felt at the kosel as I cried tears of yearning and tears of closeness, that was a galus connection! That wasn't even what real people experienced during the time of the bais hamikdosh. 

So whatever connection I did feel, can't be compared to the clarity and closeness a Jew could experience during the time of our bais hamikdosh. If I want to grasp a piece of whatever was felt during the time of the bais hamikdosh, I need to take my clarity and dveikus-and magnify it a hundred times over- and then I can try to imagine a tiny crumb of what the Jews experienced before we were sent into galus.

I want clarity? I want real closeness? Any connection I've ever felt is only a galus experience.

I can yearn for more. 

I can daven for more.

I can arouse my soul to experience pain-pain that whatever closeness I've ever felt in my entire life on this earth has no comparison to the closeness and connection to Hashem of all those years ago.

And then I can start to yearn for moshiach.

Parshas Va'eschanon

When Moshe Rabbeinu speaks to the Jewish Nation before his death, he tells them that we will do aveiros and we will be sent to galus. But, Hashem will never forsake us as a nation and we will ultimately do teshuva and return to Hashem.

While we are in this galus, we may go through times where we feel lost and alone. But we must remember this promise. Hashem will never abandon us! He will never forsake us! And if we use what we are going through to return to Him and to come closer to Him, we will add meaning to our life and purpose to our pain.

May we be able to keep growing and keep coming closer to Hashem as we bridge the gap between us and our Father in Heaven!

A Small Meal

Today is Yud Zayin Tammuz, the day we fast to show we are mourning the beginning of the end - the end of the time of clarity and closeness to Hashem through the Bais Hamikdosh.

Imagine your father bought you a house, provided you with everything you needed to keep that house beautiful and also gave you money to buy yourself food and clothing whenever you needed. Now imagine if at the same time, your father was homeless, sleeping on the park bench every night. Would you be able to enjoy the house he so generously gave you, along with all the things he provided you with?

Wouldn't you try to invite him into your home? What if he said he didn't want to come live with you because your home wasn't good enough for him? Wouldn't you do whatever it takes to make your house a place where he would be comfortable moving in?

Hashem gave each of us a place to live us and also blessed us with so much bounty, so much beauty, so much excess... But He is has nowhere to live.

He is homeless.

We need to reflect upon the fact that if He doesn't feel comfortable living with us, we must fix that.

We need to think, what changes can we make to ensure that our homes, our world, can become a place where His shechina will want to reside?

R' Shimshon Pincus zt"l talks about making a "seuda ketana" with Hashem.

What is this small meal?

When someone makes a big meal, like a wedding, they invite many people and serve lots of varieties of food. The reason for this is that everybody has different tastes and he wants to make sure all his guests will be satisfied.

But when a small meal is prepared, for example a seuda for just a chosson and kallah, the food served is different. Before the meal, we check with both the chosson and kallah to see what they like. If the chosson likes something but the kallah does not like it, we do not serve that dish. We only serve foods that both the chosson and kallah enjoy eating.

This, says R' Pincus zt"l, is what we should do with Hashem. We should say, "Hashem, I want to eat a meal with you. I like The New York Times. Hashem, do you like it?"

No, Hashem does not like the New York Times.

"Then I can't have that in my home."

And this is how we can go through the things we bring into our homes, the things we do in our free time and the things we busy ourselves with.

We have to look at what we do, what we buy and what we allow into our homes and ask, Hashem, do you like it? Because I can only have it if you like it. I want you to sit with me Hashem. I want you to feel welcome in my house. I want you to want to spend time in my presence.

By making a seuda ketana with Hashem, we can reflect upon the things we do and the influences we allow into our homes. We will notice what changes we need to make to ensure that Hashem's shechina will want to reside amongst us. And that way, we will show Hashem that we are setting up our homes for Him to stay!

If Hashem once again feels comfortable living among us, He can bring us all back to His home and He will no longer be homeless. We will be able to live with the clarity and closeness to Him we so desperately need. And we will be able to say, "I know that I did what it took to welcome Hashem back home. I made the changes I needed to make Him want to make the changes we were all hoping for!"

May we merit to celebrate the rebuilding of the bais hamikdosh instead of mourning its destruction!

Have a meaningful and introspective fast.

One Soul

Too much pain
Hurts my brain
Can wrap my head around it
Hurts my heart
I can't start
To imagine it
For those closest to it
A young couple
Engaged to be wed
And instead
Boom
They're dead
How??
How does Hashem allow
Such pain
To remain
To exist 
In this world
Our imperfect world
Our confusing world
Our painful world
In His world
In His book
This all looks
Perfect
How??
How can we understand 
We can't
Make sense
Of something
That doesn't make
Any sense.
A young bride
Smile so wide
Stands beside
Her new partner
Her partner in life
And now in death
They met their end
Right at the beginning 
Of their new life
No chance to be
Husband and wife
No chance to prove
All the wonderful things
They started to know
About each other.
Shidduchim
So complex
So deep
So full
Research
Say yes
Go out
Another yes
And now?
A slap
A no
No
You will not go
The way of most
Brides and grooms
You're escorted to
A different room
To a place where
Neshamos go
Because Hashem knows
That your neshamos glow
Brighter than
The smiles you wore
While you were so sure
Of your wonderful life
Ahead of you
Hashem took you
Away
From your families
Together
Your neshamos were bound
In this world
Two halves
Of one whole
Ready to become
One soul
Now you're one
One with Hashem 
One with each other
One with
Your other brother
The one who
Just two
Years ago
Also
Left this world.
Do all these neshamos 
Hang out together?
Do all of them
Watch us
Cry and remember?
Do all of them have 
The clarity we seek
Oh how I wish
I could have a little peek
A touch of understanding
A hint of clarity
A piece of that light
To illuminate this night
(And a chunk of time
With someone up there
That could stretch til eternity
So we could just share...)
But I am stuck here
Alone and confused
With nothing to gain
And so much to lose
If I just wallow and cry
And continue to ask why
I need to do more than just sigh 
I need to use that why
To propel me to go
To move
And to grow
To higher places
To better places
I wish I could know
Where I am meant to go
In which direction to grow
Where to direct all this pain
So something will be gained
To know what to change
Yet I am left in the dark
I can only do my small part
In trying to fix
Myself
To take this pain
So it won't be in vain
But 
We are stuck
In galus
Without clarity
Or prophets
To help us
To tell us
To explain to us
The true meaning 
Behind each happening
So I will pray
For the day
When we will have
All that
And more
Clarity
Closeness
Connection 
With the One Above
And the ones we love
Hashem...?
Can you strengthen me?
Can you strengthen all of us?
Until that day?

Thoughts Before My Wedding

I wrote this quite a long time ago. Yet, the message is still as powerful and touching as always. 

I went to my brother’s kever yesterday to invite him to my wedding. Yup. It was quite a hard day for me. Not to mention the night before, motzei shabbos when I couldn’t stop crying…It is still soo hard for me to imagine that my own brother, my younger brother who was so close to me, will not be there at my wedding. Well, he will be there, just I wont get to see him. When it’s time to take family pictures, he wont be there. The truth is, he will be there more than anyone else. I know it might sound contradictory but even though I won’t see him at the chuppah, I will feel that he is there. I wont have to peek through my veil to find him in the men’s section (not that I will be looking out for him anyway), because I will feel his presence.

Sometimes, you invite someone to your wedding and they don’t respond and let you know if they are coming or not. But I know that Shalom a”h will be there. I don’t need any response cards to know that he will be there.

And yes, it was very hard for me to go to his kever and invite him. Partially because I knew he would be coming and also because I know I wont be able to see him there.

But when I was crying soo hard on motzei shabbos about the fact that I won’t see him at my wedding, this is what went through my mind:

Shalom, I miss you sooo sooo much and the chasuna will not be the same without you. It just wont be complete if you are not there...I feel such a void now that you are gone… and then I was like, Wait a minute! Do you hear what you are saying? It won’t be the same without you! That is how I am supposed to feel about the fact that we don’t have a bais hamikdosh anymore!! I am supposed to feel a HUGE hole in my heart, a gaping hole, a void because WE DON’T HAVE THE BAIS HAMIKDOSH ANYMORE!! I am supposed to feel that no simcha will ever be the same without the baishamikdosh! And that is one of the reasons why we break a glass under the chupah. We are supposed to feel that no simcha can ever be complete when we live in galus, without the shechina, the same way I felt about not having my oinchwn brother at my wedding. And if this is the pain I feel right now, can you imagine the tza’ar hashechina?! Can you imagine the pain of Hashem when He looks down at his children and He sees we don’t even miss Him anymore? We don’t even know what we are missing!!! We don’t even cry out in pain that we don’t have the bais hamikdosh. It takes the pain of losing someone close to me to get me to realize what I really should be crying about!!

I took such a strong lesson from my tears on motzei shabbos and my visit to my brother’s kever. Let us hope that very soon Hashem will dry our tears of sadness and replace them with tears of joy.

Shalom, I know you are looking down at me and smiling. You always smiled because you were always happy. I know that this is the lesson you wanted me to take from all the pain I was going through. So now that I did mine, please, you do yours and go in front of the Kisei HaKavod and BEG Hashem to end this terrible galus. Beg Hashem to put an end to all the pain and suffering of Klal Yisroel because we can’t take it anymore! We miss the closeness and clarity of the times of the Bais Hamikdosh. There is a huge void in my heart now and I know why I feel this emptiness. So please, go to Hashemand don’t stop begging. Just keep begging and begging until you get an answer. We need moshiach already! I know I can count on you. 

Why I Cry

I posted this before...and I want to share it with you again.

I look up at 
The deep blue sky
And slowly
Teardrops
Form in my eyes
And I 
Begin to cry

Why?
Why do I cry?

I cry because
When I am in pain
When I am hurting
I know how to cry
It's almost...easy
The tears just come

When I am overwhelmed
By...my life
By...my struggles
By...my challenges
By...my difficulties
I know how to cry
Those tears
Spring forth from my eyes

So why?
Is it so hard to cry?
When the month of Av
Comes around
And I should be thinking
Feeling
Hashem's pain
Hashem's loss
Our pain
Our loss
A house that once was
A nation that once was
The glory that once was
A relationship that once was

Why?
Why can't I cry?
Why don't I feel the pain
Why is it
So hard to feel
To make it real
To me?

When I'm having it hard
When someone hurts me
Those tears flow
So freely

When I'm simply taken over
Overwhelmed
By so many little things
And sometimes
Sometimes bigger things
I can cry
Easily

But...Hashem's pain?!
The thought of the kosel
The thought of the shechina in galus
The thought of all that we are missing?
Why doesn't that make me cry?
As simply
As effortlessly
As easily
As my own pain?
As my own life?

Hashem...?
I lift my eyes
Up to Your skies
I think about
Things
Close to me
That hurt me
That touch me
That inspire me
To cry

And I realize...
They are all connected.

It may be easier
For me
To shed tears
Over personal losses
Over personal hurts
Over personal frustrations
Over...my personal life

And I see
I understand
That it all comes from
The same place

A place of emotion
A place of longing
Of yearning
And of hoping

So...although I may not
Be able to cry
Shed real tears
Over bigger losses
Bigger pain
Deeper losses
Deeper pain
I know...
That inside
My heart is crying

And Hashem
Who is bochain libos u'chelayos
Who knows
Who sees
And Who understands
The inner workings
The inner chambers
Of my heart

He knows
He sees
And He understands

The inner sigh
The inner cry

Even
Without
Real tears.

I lift up my eyes
Look up at the shimmering blue sky
Searching
Yearning
Hoping
And...yes.
Crying
Without real tears
But I cry inside 
And Hashem
Understands
Why
I cry.

May we reach the day of u'macha Hashem dim'ah mei'al kol panim. Amen.

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!

Why I Cry

I look up at 
The deep blue sky
And slowly
Teardrops
Form in my eyes
And I 
Begin to cry

Why?
Why do I cry?

I cry because
When I am in pain
When I am hurting
I know how to cry
It's almost...easy
The tears just come

When I am overwhelmed
By...my life
By...my struggles
By...my challenges
By...my difficulties
I know how to cry
Those tears
Spring forth from my eyes

So why?
Is it so hard to cry?
When the month of Av
Comes around
And I should be thinking
Feeling
Hashem's pain
Hashem's loss
Our pain
Our loss
A house that once was
A nation that once was
The glory that once was
A relationship that once was

Why?
Why can't I cry?
Why don't I feel the pain
Why is it
So hard to feel
To make it real
To me?

When I'm having it hard
When someone hurts me
Those tears flow
So freely

When I'm simply taken over
Overwhelmed
By so many little things
And sometimes
Sometimes bigger things
I can cry
Easily

But...Hashem's pain?!
The thought of the kosel
The thought of the shechina in galus
The thought of all that we are missing?
Why doesn't that make me cry?
As simply
As effortlessly
As easily
As my own pain?
As my own life?

Hashem...?
I lift my eyes
Up to Your skies
I think about
Things
Close to me
That hurt me
That touch me
That inspire me
To cry

And I realize...
They are all connected.

It may be easier
For me
To shed tears
Over personal losses
Over personal hurts
Over personal frustrations
Over...my personal life

And I see
I understand
That it all comes from
The same place

A place of emotion
A place of longing
Of yearning
And of hoping

So...although I may not
Be able to cry
Shed real tears
Over bigger losses
Bigger pain
Deeper losses
Deeper pain
I know...
That inside
My heart is crying

And Hashem
Who is bochain libos u'chelayos
Who knows
Who sees
And Who understands
The inner workings
The inner chambers
Of my heart

He knows
He sees
And He understands

The inner sigh
The inner cry

Even
Without
Real tears.

I lift up my eyes
Look up at the shimmering blue sky
Searching
Yearning
Hoping
And...yes.
Crying
Without real tears
But I cry inside 
And Hashem
Understands
Why
I cry.

May we reach the day of u'macha Hashem dim'ah mei'al kol panim. Amen.