I Hope You Dance

I hope you dance. These are not just lyrics in a song but the core of who we are. 

Almost one year later. Where are you? How are you? Maybe these are questions our great grandparents, great aunts, uncles, and cousins wanted to ask loved ones many years ago. I never thought in 2024 these would be questions I would ask. Did you? Did you think our generation would ever witness “never again’ happen? Are you feeling anticipatory anxiety knowing the anniversary of October 7th is around the corner? You are not alone. I feel it deep inside.

It will forever be a day I will never forget. I know where I was and what I was doing. The same way September 11th made me feel 23 years ago. I immediately needed to know where everyone in my family was and I wanted us all to be together. It gave me a sense of comfort when what was happening was so uncomfortable. The security blanket I slept under growing up in America was ripped open.  

But October 7th…it tore my heart and tried to take my soul. I live in America but being Jewish is the very depth of who I am . 

I could write in detail everything about that morning. I am sure many of us can. 

As with everything in life our footprints are different. Meaning how one copes or grieves may not be the same as another person. Can I grieve for people I don’t know? I am not a Rabbi, I have not spent years studying Torah, nor am I a professor or psychologist, but common sense and my intuition tells me without question, the answer is yes.  We are connected through our heritage. I have said it before, we are one. We are part of something that is bigger than whatever we have to overcome.  

What have I learned? For centuries Jewish people have dealt with persecution, hatred, and death. Whatever happens today, tomorrow, and all the days that follow I know we will survive. We live. It is who we are. We will never let anyone take our voice, our pride, and our hope. . 

Honor those we lost. Honor those that survived. Honor those that fought and are still fighting. Honor the families that are displaced and separated. Honor the empty seats at the Shabbat table. Honor by living. Honor by loving. Honor by dancing. 

I hope you dance.