![]() I found comfort in that ancient ritual and a connection to my people who for centuries had recited those very same words in their own grief. But I wanted to honor her with the kaddish prayer, so I started going every day. When my mother died, I had been a twice a year Jew, showing up at temple on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. And then for some reason, I turned to candles. Beside myself with worry, I didn’t know where to turn. ![]() But when my older daughter Rhonda, an occupational therapist in a rehab facility, became a front line worker, and my younger, Leslie, had to go through rounds of treatment for stage 4 breast cancer, my worries took on new meaning. Covid-19 brought the life I knew skidding to a halt and no amount of phone calls, long walks, or scarfing down a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Salted Caramel Brownie could soothe my fears about it. ![]()
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