Hostage release. Grateful for the 12 Thai workers and 13 Israelis released today. May it continue beyond the promised 50, may it include Uriel Baruch and Hersh Goldberg-Polin and every single other captive and may people stop tearing down their posters.
Ice cream. This is a repeat from last year. Probably gonna be here every time.
Journalism. Grateful to have the responsibility and the opportunity to help tell the story of this conflict. Grateful to the brave journalists in Gaza and the intrepid ones everywhere telling us what we need to know about what happened on Oct. 7 and in the days since, bearing witness and holding power to account. Grateful especially to my team of journalists in the Forward newsroom, pushing themselves and supporting each other.
Kaddish. I’ve probably recited the mourner’s prayer more than 1,000 times since my father died on Feb. 7. I’ve said it outside Stalin’s house in Gori, Georgia, and on New Jersey transit. Next week I’ll be saying it in Jerusalem. I’ve had Muslims join in the “Amen.” I’ve learned to wrap my dad’s tefillin. And a whole lot more.
Light. Hanukkah is coming.
Meditation. I am truly terrible at it, but have been trying most Wednesday mornings at a meditative minyan led by Rabbi Elliott Tepperman of Montclair’s Reconstructionist synagogue, Bnai Keshet.
Notes. As in the Notes app. I’m still a Google Doc-devotee, but Notes have a more whimsical, ephemeral quality, and I find myself using them more and more. My notes from months of saying kaddish are in Notes, as are my kids’ birthday wish lists, and menu-planning for my part of yesterday’s feast, and contacts for AP chemistry tutors, and a series of things called To Do.
Orange. Rivaling green these days for my favorite color, especially the very soft rust-orange sweater I got from the online thrift story ThredUp for $10.40.
Prayer. And Rabbi Brent Spodek for showing me how: Wow. (And: Thank you.)
Questions. Another repeat from 2022, but now it’s about the essay I wrote for the new anthology, Jewish Priorities: Sixty-Five Proposals for the Jewish Future. Mine is about the importance of coming to everything from the point of curiosity. It’s never been more important.
Rabbis. Also a repeat, with some new specifics. Rabbi Marc Katz, who deftly led our synagogue community through an antisemitic attack in January, is now joined by Rabbi Julie Roth of Shomrei Emunah, the Conservative shul in Montclair where I daven on Sunday mornings; Rabbis Roly Matalon and Felicia Sol of B’nai Jeshurun in Manhattan, where I regularly Zoom in; and Rabbi Wes Gardenswartz of Temple Emanuel in Newton, Massachusetts, whose vibrant daily minyan has become home away from home when visiting my mom.
Also Rabbi Benji Samuels, who eulogized my dad and continues to guide us through our mourning. Rabbis Elliot Cosgrove and Angela Buchdahl, who have supported me and the Forward in so many ways. And Rabbi Dov Lerner, who died at the end of August, may his memory be a blessing.
Sisters. Cannot imagine going through the past year without mine. Also soup.
Torah study. Specifically the Temple Ner Tamid Saturday morning Zoom group. Also Top Chef, whose reruns I rely on to help me fall asleep.
Understanding. Vivianism. Water.
X. Since Elon Musk bought Twitter and stupidly changed its name among many other dopey decisions, its role in public discourse has diminished. Which makes it much, much easier to ignore.
You, our readers. For responding to our work when it resonates. For criticizing it (mostly) with thoughtfulness and grace. For sharing it with others. For donating to support it. For showing up to engage with it, and with us.
Zebra. The other night I went to see Sabbath’s Theater, a play based on the Philip Roth novel. I didn’t love it; “pretentious” is my one-word review. But there was a lot of incredible acting, and some brilliant writing, including a scene on a subway where two strangers consider whether a rabbi would marry a person to a zebra. A good reminder that there’s always something to be thankful for.
