‘All in’: A final tribute to Laura Ben-David

I have written this speech a thousand times in the last two years. In my nightmares. In the moments I acknowledged my deepest fears. In the times I knew that the biggest gift in my life, the thing too few people ever really have, was slipping away.

There is too much I can say about Laura and it is impossible and cruel to distill a person into five minutes — but if I have to give over the legacy that is Laura, it would be that she was “all in.”

She was “all in” in everything she did. Yes, through her work, her photography and her writing. But most importantly as someone who loves fiercely and unconditionally.

I wasn’t born to her, I didn’t marry her. I didn’t even carpool with her. We had nothing that forced us together. We simply chose one another. A friendship that was powerful — and profound. 

Loving someone is a choice. It’s a choice made every moment. It’s a renewal and a pact — a living thing. And it is the strongest force there is.

And Laura loved.

She loved her family. She loved Israel. She loved being Jewish. And she loved me.

I don’t know why. I can’t be an easy person to love — but she did and that love gave me the power and confidence to do anything.

I’m telling you this because you have a choice. You can choose to love — and love fiercely. To support the people around you. To help them fulfill their dreams — to make their dreams your dreams — and their success your success. You can choose to be “all in.”

If I was stuck on an article, Laura unstuck me. If I had a problem to work out, she unknotted it by my side. If someone pissed me off, she hated them too — or showed me why maybe homicide wasn’t the right way to go.

If I was unhappy, she was unhappy with me. And if I had a win — well, it was our win.

It’s the best, most fitting legacy I can think of for Laura. Laura was ALL IN for those she loved.

She was all in for her kids. She was all in for Israel. She was all in for the Jewish people. Whatever she had, she gave — with a full heart.

Time. Talent. Words.

When my videography crew cancelled at the last minute, she learned on the spot how to use video equipment to document the stories of agunot. In a calm and compassionate way, she made sure they were heard.

When a crazy person threatened us with his car because he didn’t like Jewish women standing out loud in public, she called the chief of police and made sure he was apprehended.

When I was asked to make a photobank of Jewish women and families — with no resources or clue how to do it — Laura made sure it got done. And thousands of images representing Orthodox Jewish life are forever in her honor.

The list of what Laura enabled is endless. I could stand here all day and tell you the moments: from the Knesset in Jerusalem to protests in London to the cafes of Paris, and much more that will be done in her name and added to her legacy of love.

A 5 a.m. call at a news studio? She was there.
A last-minute guest spot? She was there.

I truly can’t recall a time when she told me, “No.”

Laura cooked for soldiers, advocated for lost tribes, defended her people, and enjoyed the beauty of the land and a nice glass of whiskey.

She focused on bringing out the best in those around her, whether guiding me to ask the right questions or encouraging women who were camera-shy, but wanted to be a part of the photo bank. Her work was not about her. She was about bringing out the best in everyone around her and showing the beauty in everyone — from the Jewish people to the Jewish land.

She was all in for life and grabbed every second of it. Every sunset, every rainbow, every bird in the sky. Every morsel of yumminess.

Even towards the end, when she knew she would throw it up, she wanted to taste life (her husband Ray would bring her plates and plates of food, just so she could taste every damn thing on the table).

Laura deserves to be remembered for being all-in. For the love she put into this world. For the changes she made, for the chances she took — on me, on love, and for her people — big P and small p.

Noa Choritz — a good friend and fierce warrior told me that Parshat Pinchas was the parsha on the Shabbat before she and Laura made aliyah. It is so fitting that tomorrow we will read about Bnot Tzlefchad, the five sisters who loved this land and the Jewish people enough to petition Moshe for a piece of it at a time when women were not granted inheritance.

Laura loathed injustice and fought it fiercely, but so calmly you didn’t see it coming. Like the sisters, she stood proudly and spoke up for Jewish women as only she could. Now, she will be rooted in this land forever, with her children and grandchildren whom she loved so very, very much carrying on her legacy.

Ray. You brought Laura So. Much. Joy. She was like a teenager when you were dating. It was utterly nauseating.

It brings me so much peace to know that she spent her remaining time loving and being loved by you. You took care of her better than I ever could have, being strong through the worst of it and never letting her know how hard it was. I am so very proud of you for the husband and stepfather you became. For the record, I always believed in you, which is the only reason I even let you near her.

For whatever reason, it wasn’t meant to be for us to all grow old together, but as we said before, there are people who live decades more and don’t live even a minute the way Laura has taught us to.

To my husband Shai: You have always been everything to me. In the past few months and 24 hours, you have lived up to every extremely high expectation I have of you. Thank you for being there for us and for Laura.

I don’t know how to be who I am without her. She touched everything I did. I can only try to continue as she taught me — grabbing every minute of life and seeing her in every sunset.

Please, all of you, love a little more fiercely and a little more boldly. Be all in for those you love and all you care about. You will all be richer for it.