Rosh Hashana, the beginning of the Jewish New Year, has come and gone here in Israel. As I wrote previously, Rosh Hashana is a holiday that centers around connecting with Gd. By coronating Gd “Our Father, Our King” (and overlooking any controversy those specific words may stir up), I am reminded that Gd is at the center of my life, ruling everything. I can think about how everything comes from Him and that He loves me, protects me and wants the best for me, like any parent would for His child. Unfortunately, it was not so simple for me this Rosh Hashana. While I wanted very much to be present for this day, I found it too painful to take part in much of it. I could not help but think about my mother at this time last year, praying that Gd would grant her another year of life, and it broke my heart. I was able to participate in the meals and to bring Yonah to synagogue to hear the shofar, but every time I tried to pray, I started crying. I left the service early this afternoon and, walking home, found myself in the middle of an intersection that had been closed to traffic for the holiday. It was just me and Yonah in this open space, the rolling hills of Jerusalem in the distance. I could hear the echo of men’s prayers and a shofar being sounded. Then, in an apartment above me, I heard a little boy calling, “Ima! Ima! Mommy! Mommy!”. I was struck by the metaphor of the moment: there I was, standing at an intersection of life, in the holiest city in the world, on one of the holiest days of the year, and wanting to cry out for my mother. While I did not spend hours in synagogue as many people did, I end this holiday knowing that Gd is there, that He is protecting me and that He loves me. I also know that, while the pain I feel comes from His decision, He is also crying right along with me. In happier news, we had lovely meals during the holiday. Friday night, Nechemia, Shloimie and Tovi came for dinner. Nechemia brought along all of the simanim (special foods eaten on RH) and bags full of unique fruits he had picked up from the Shuk (including dried dates that were pure ecstasy). Yesterday for lunch we went to my friend Rachel’s, which was lovely (save the little love slaps Shmuel Yaakov gave Yonah–don’t worry, only Yonah’s pride was hurt) and then we enjoyed Tovi’s company for the rest of the holiday meals. Now that Rosh Hashana is over and the kitchen is (relatively) cleaned up, I am thoroughly exhausted but ready to dive into the new week. Tomorrow I will be going on a trip with my school to Kever Rachel, the tomb of our matriarch, Rachel. It is considered a very holy place, where Rachel’s spirit prays on our behalf. The tomb is located in the town of Hebron, which has a very loaded political history (the Intifada moved in there about a decade ago) and has been known to be a dangerous place. Recently, however, the threat of violence has eased up a bit and people feel safer visiting. So, off we go. I am looking forward to spending a full day at school, getting to know some of the other women a little better and having Mommy’s Day All to Herself.