A birthday not like the others

I woke up this morning with both kids in my bed. When I opened my eyes, my daughter’s face was right against mine as she whispered “happy birthday, mommy… can we have birthday waffies?”. My son, sleepily smiled, said “happy birthday, mommy, I love you” and went back to sleep.

I got up, went downstairs, and went on to make the waffies my daughter requested. She even “set the table” (spread her blankets and stuffed animals to make my seat comfortable). I made my coffee, and started scrolling through my phone.

For a split second, in the bliss of having my babies with me, I forgot about the outside world. While I get to celebrate my 40th birthday with my kids with breakfasts and dinners and trips to the movies, there are 109 souls who don’t get to do any of it; their milestones come and go in darkness and uncertainty as their loved ones keep fighting for their release.

The post October 7th world has given life cycles and milestones a whole new meaning. Many of us find ourselves trying to balance our joy and the inevitable survivor’s guilt. How do I celebrate my 40th while Agam Berger can’t celebrate her 20th?. How do I fully enjoy this moment with my babies while the world prays for Kfir and Ariel Bibas wondering if they are in their parents’ arms?. How do we safely celebrate moments in a world that continues to justify public displays of antisemitism as expressions of justified resistance?.

Many of us are preparing for the return to Hebrew school; we are looking at our curricula and trying to find ways to maintain the Jewish joy that is so integral to Jewish education and life. We prepare ourselves to lift their Jewish identities through comprehensive learning and meaningful experiences that will override the images on TV and discourse in many of their school’s hallways. As we prepare materials for holidays like Simchat Torah or Sukkot, we second-guess our approach as we attempt to remain true to the content while also recognizing the historical shift that we are living through.

The truth is, to elevate Jewish joy in life is to strengthen our people’s resolve for continued survival. Even in the darkest of worlds, our job is to make sure that we keep those who seek to destroy us to reach and take the joy in our souls. When they take our joy, they have succeeded at reaching the very core of our existence, successfully destroying us. We can mourn the loss and embrace the sadness while also recognizing that our historical joy remains unscathed. As educators, our duty is to make sure that their attacks don’t reach our classrooms and as parents, that their hate doesn’t break our children’s hearts; that we teach history while also strengthening resilience; while making sure that our children and students don’t lose their joy.

This practice must first start within ourselves. While this is a big milestone birthday, with the background grief and memory of those who cannot see the light, I am responsible for making sure that evil does not completely decimate my soul. We are stronger when we stay true to our history; to our strength of body and heart, our resilience, and our deep commitment to a stronger future. Today, I will blow the candles for myself and those who have not been able to do so for the last ten months. Tonight, I will hold my babies with Kfir and Ariel in mind, while also channeling the love of all those parents who are unable to hug their own. I choose to enter this new year with my Jewish joy and pride stronger than ever before.