On the Eve of My Havdalah

 

11.29.21

One of my absolute favorite Jewish rituals is the Havdalah service that separates Shabbat and Holidays from the rest of the week. I definitely developed a love for Havdalah at camp as a child. Later as a song leader, I was privileged to lead many Havdalah services at camp, on retreats, in Poland and Israel with Shorashim, and many other places. I still relish the short, but beautiful singing of prayers, the glow of the twisted candle casting shadows on the faces of those around, the overflowing cup of wine over-spilling with blessings for the coming week, the rejuvenating smell of spices, and the reflective thoughts of the week that just passed and combined with the anticipation of the week ahead. Haunting and beautiful at the same time - it marked the separation of so many weeks of my life.

Havdalah literally means separation, and while today is not a Jewish sabbath or holiday, it does mark a significant separation of time in my life. Some Havdalot bring happiness - my marriage and the birth of my kids, for example. I remember each of those vividly and how my life has been enriched (for the most part 😂) with each new change. But on September 27th, 2021, I received my diagnosis and the . separation between thinking I was healthy and having cancer.  That Havdalah brought surgery to remove the cancer and gave me time to heal enough to face the next separation which begins tomorrow - the cycle of 6 months of chemotherapy.

Truthfully, I only made this connection to Havdalah over the past few days. And even though it is not an actual religious ceremony, it makes a lot of sense to mark these types of transitions in our lives - to name them and accept them. Most of the big moments - births (baby namings/bris), bar/bat mitzvot, weddings, funerals - are all accompanied by tradition and ceremony; however, there is nothing really to mark the separation for other moments of transition in our lives. At least for me, it will help to look at my new realities in this way - a separation between what was and what will be. A time to reflect and look ahead.

The past 9-ish weeks since my diagnosis have brought about a slew of changes - some good and some more difficult. I have seen the unbelievable strength of my wife, a pillar for our family from the moment we learned of the diagnosis. I have seen my kids act with an extra layer of compassion. Unfortunately, they are having to grow up and mature a bit faster than normal, but they are rising to the occasion. I have been touched by the love and prayers and support from so many people in my life. And I have learned a bunch about myself along the way. Among those things: an inner strength to persevere; an optimistic side to counter my typically sarcastic pessimism; and a still-developing ability to ask for and/or receive help. I expect that the next step will bring about even more good times and some difficult moments as well.

My 6 month cycle (12 treatments) starts tomorrow. Tuesdays, I get blood drawn and tested to make sure my white blood cells and other counts are healthy. Wednesdays, I will spend 3 or so hours hooked up to the IV chemo drip. For 48 hours, I will have a chemo pump attached to my chest portal, and that will be removed on Fridays. Rinse and repeat every 2 weeks until the end of May.

Tonight, I sit with an overflowing cup of the blessings that all of my family, friends, and others from all walks of my life have bestowed upon me the past couple of months. I have said before, and I'll say again, how important those thoughts and prayers have been for me and my family. A major part of that is the work I have done with Laina and others on #GratefulFighters. That labor of love and the goal of raising funds and awareness has been so therapeutic. I am a damn lucky guy - all of this love has filled my over-filled my cup! 

The past 5+ weeks since surgery have also brought rejuvenation. I have stopped to smell the spices of life. I have played more games with the little son and tried to have more 'man to man' time with the bigger sons. I have relished reconnecting with many people and just the little chats. And I have been lucky enough to 'forget' about work for the first time in decades because of the amazing friends I have that are covering for me as teacher and literacy coach. Now that I am 'over' the portal surgery, I feel refreshed and ready for the next step.

Most of all, like the Havdalah candle - symbolizing G-d's gift of fire that warms and brightens our otherwise dark/gloomy lives, I have a fire burning inside of me. That fire is kindled and strengthened by your love and prayers, and its strength comes from my amazing wife and the desire to be an example for my kids for how to attack adversity and overcome any obstacles that life may put in our way.

Yes, there is a lot of reflection to be done on the past couple of months - and there is a lot to look forward to in the months ahead until the next Havdalah - the end of chemotherapy. There will be ups and downs during this next phase of my life, but I am so blessed that you are all here with me, along for the ride.

Blessed are you, Adonai, who separates good and bad, happy and sad, sickness and health, and allows me to reflect and look forward to another significant moment in my life.

Love you all,

Early Detection Saves Lives
#GratefulFighters