Personal

  Full Disclaimer: The photo above is missing 3 nephews and 2 nieces. I will be capturing photos of them all when Robert and I visit Israel in May!

“It’s 5:15am. It will be raining and a high of 31 degrees in Philadelphia today.” I quickly snatch my phone off the bedside table and press dismiss on the alarm. As my eyes start to focus, I notice I have two new messages in my WhatsApp group labeled “Pachino Family.” I click it and see a smiling faced baby girl wrapped in a warm, cuddly looking blanket. My heart melts and sighs at the same time. Chaviva, is the latest addition to the Pachino clan. I haven’t met her yet. She, and the rest of my nine incredible nieces and nephews live 6000 miles away in the beautiful country of Israel. As I turn on the hot water to start my shower, I stare back at Chaviva and I ask myself Why am I living in America?

This is a question I ask myself every day, and it’s not because I don’t love my life. I seriously LOVE my life. I am totally obsessed with the great city of Philadelphia and all it offers. I have established an amazing community that feels more like family. Don’t even get me started on how awesome my clients are. And above all, Robert is here. Yet, with each and every passing day, my heart breaks a little more.

They are there and I am here. It is as simple as that. They are there and I am here. They are having birthdays that I can’t blow up balloons for. They are starring in school plays that I cannot clap loudly at and they are having dance parties that I cannot dress up for. They are celebrating holidays, passing milestones with flying colors, learning, playing and living their life there, in Israel. And I am here, in Philadelphia. How can I live like this?

There is nothing like the love you feel as an Aunt. When Shira, the oldest of the nine, was born, I was head over heels in love. It hit me like a ton of bricks. Hard and fast. There she was, all tiny and cute. As the seventeen year old high school senior, I was terrified of holding her. I had the immense fear that I was going to drop her, break her or even just make her cry. With one look, Shira stole my heart and I have never been the same.

With each child born, my heart grows bigger and bigger. I don’t think words can really explain the joy and happiness these nine humans and their cute little faces bring me. Watching them find the magic in the world is irreplaceable. Seeing the bits and pieces of my sisters that appear in these children is remarkable . Hearing them call me “Aunt Yael” is music to my ears and I miss them more and more every day.

I am lucky that we are living in such a globalized world. With just the click of a button, I can see them, hear them and be a digital presence in their life. I get daily updates, weekly pictures and I know my sisters and brother-in-laws are doing everything they can to make me feel like 6000 miles is really not that far. I know that I belong in Philadelphia and they belong in Israel. I know that they will never forget me and I will always be there in spirit. I know that I deserve to go after my dreams and they deserve to live out theirs. I know that our bond is stronger than long distance and time zones. I know that no one will replace me and I will be the proudest aunt no matter how far away I am.

So, as I take one more look at Chaviva’s photo before I head out into the rain and off to my first meeting of the day, I sigh. I am happy here. I can’t move to Israel. That just has to be good enough. For now, I get to count down the days til Robert and I go to see them in May. For now, I get to show off all the smiling photos I get via WhatsApp and for now, I get to laugh at every email that my older nieces send me. I live in Philadelphia, they live in Israel and waking up to pictures of a happy, cuddly Chaviva isn’t too shabby.

“I figured I’d find you here” Ayelet said as she walked up the stairs of Cornerstone Grill & Loft. I was sitting at one of the High Tops in my black yoga pants and Cornerstone zip-up, wrapping silver-wear, getting ready to start my waitressing shift.

“Where else would I be?” I said as I smiled back at my best friend. She sat down next to me and we started chatting as if we were in my living room. To be totally honest, I think I spent more time at that college bar than I did in any of my apartments or classes through out my time during undergrad. From the first week I went to the University of Maryland, I was a Cornerstone waitress. I worked 6 to 7 days a week and gave it my all. Don’t get me wrong, my education came first, but nothing came above my studies and my bar.

Years later, I might not have the same job, but I still have that same ‘work comes first’ tendency and I find myself struggling with it every day. As you all know, I absolutely love what I do. It feels like I am making a difference. It feel like I am full-filling my destiny. I have the best clients in the world and I want to do everything in my power to serve them the best way I can. But at the same time, I have an incredible relationship with the sweetest man, 9 nieces and nephews that I adore in every way and friends who support me and love me even at my worst.  So, how do I balance it all? How do I put the computer away, my calendar down and switch my entrepreneur brain off?  How can I focus solely on the amazing humans that love me unconditionally? How can I do it all and still have time to go to the gym?

I am not going to lie, it isn’t easy. It is probably the one thing I struggle with the most on a day to day bases. But this year, I have made it my goal to find a way to balance it all and still get enough sleep.  Thank you to the book, “168 Hours: You Have More Time Than You Think” by Laura Vanderkam, I am changing the way I think about my time. Goodbye to the days where I hear myself constantly say “I don’t have enough time” and hello to the days where I admit to myself that if something is a priority, I will get it done. With that simple switch, I have found myself a lot less stressed, a lot more content and with way more time.

I know extra hours in the day aren’t magically appearing. I know that I still have the same amount of work to do. And I know that sometimes, I will feel overwhelmed with the amount of things I am juggling; but, when I focus on what I really want out of life, what means the most to me, I have found a lot more time and a lot more happiness. Of course spending time with my friends, family and my Robert are priorities. Of course, going to the gym and living a healthy life style are on the top of my list. And of course, serving my clients with my whole heart takes precedence. Now, all I have to do is fit it everything in to a 168 hours and that seems a lot more doable than the 24/7 mentality!

“We might have to get a doubt-conversion .” My Mom announced as I kicked off my fake Uggs and put my backpack down from my long day of Jewish Day School.

“What do you mean?” I asked walking into the kitchen.

“Well, if I can’t find out who my birth-mom is… We don’t really know if I am Jewish which means you might not be technically Jewish and we will all need to perform a doubt-conversion.” My mom was on a mission. See, my mom is adopted and although her adoption was through Jewish Family Services, she never received any details.

My mom wanted to be 100% sure we were Jewish. We always thought we were. If I’m being honest, there was not a doubt in my mind that we weren’t Jewish. But with us girls getting older, a future-son-in-law and prospects of grandkids in the picture, my mom wanted to be more than certain.

“What if I don’t want to be Jewish?” I responded. My mom shot me a baffled look.  I was fifteen years old and fed up with my Jewish Day School. I was doing terribly in my Hebrew class, my Jewish Studies bored me, my teachers misunderstood me and I was sent to the principle’s office daily for wearing skirts that weren’t below the knee.

Over the next few weeks, I gave this some serious thought. I was raised in a Jewish Orthodox household. Everyone I knew was Jewish. Everywhere I went was Kosher. Even our gym was the Jewish Community Center. It was my entire life, but what if it didn’t have to be? What if I had the chance to change this part of who I was? What if, instead of struggling with who I was and what it all meant, I could start over?

A month later, we found out we were 100% Jewish and I thank God every day that I am. I look back on my fifteen year old self and laugh. Of course I love being Jewish!  Don’t get me wrong,  I struggled in high school with my religion. I struggled with not feeling the same connection towards Jewish Orthodoxy as my family did. I struggled with constantly hearing from others that “I was not like my sisters” or “I was the black sheep of the family.” The struggle was definitely real. But after years of searching and growing, I have left the hardships behind me and have allowed myself to fall deeply in love with my heritage. And you know what? I wouldn’t change it for the world.

I love my Jewish legacy. I love all the traditions that my Judaism has brought me. I love the connection that I feel with someone when they say “Hey, I am Jewish too!” I feel at peace as I watch Robert light our Chanukah Candles. I feel supported when I walk into Break the Fast after Yom Kippur and I feel encouraged by the incredible Jewish Communities that has been so welcoming and so loving in every city I have lived in.

To all those people who are battling with who they are, I just want you to know you are not alone.  Take a deep breath and give yourself time. You will figure it out. Just give it time.

x0,

Yael

Photo Credit: Rachel Abramowitz

“Call me when you get there” Robert, my boyfriend of exactly 58 days, said as he closed the trunk of my 2010 KIA SOUL. We walked hand in hand to the front of the car.

I nodded. I couldn’t get myself to say anything. This past summer has been a whirlwind. Between leaving my cushy job, moving away from the state I had called home for 22 years and meeting the best human a girl could ask for; I was overwhelmed by the thirty different emotions I was feeling all at once.

I was taking a leap of faith into the unknown, which, if you knew me, wasn’t something I often did. I like to be in control. I like to understand, process and execute. But this time, there was no processing. This time there was definitely no real understanding. And this time, there was only executing. I went with my gut and my gut was now completely terrified.

“We are going to be ok. I know it” Robert said as he pulled me into a big hug. He brushed the hair away from my face. All I could do was nod again. I was on my way to Western Massachusetts for ten months and as I stood there in Philadelphia, staring into Robert’s deep, gorgeous blue eyes, for the life of me, I couldn’t remember why I was going. Robert let go and turned to open the car door.  I should stay I thought.

He gave me a big smile, nudged me to the front seat “let’s go, you need to hit the road and start your adventure already” he said with his award winning smile.

He was right. Robert is always right (don’t tell him I said that).

I had to go. I had this incredible opportunity and I wouldn’t let it go to waste. Hallmark Institute of Photography was waiting for me and I wouldn’t let my fears and insecurities get in the way. I promised myself I would get everything I could out of this experience. I promised myself I would give this a real shot. I promised  myself I was going to live photography, breath photography and do nothing but think about photography…and maybe the gorgeous, blue-eyed, law student who was waiting for me back in Philadelphia.

I was giving myself ten months. Ten months to go outside my comfort zone, move to New England and see if I got what it takes. Ten months to fall even more deeply in love with the art of Photography. Ten months to figure out how the heck to start a business and if I could make this entrepreneurial thing work. In the grand scheme of things, ten months was nothing and I owed it to myself and to my soul to go up there, to freezing cold Massachusetts and give this photography thing one hundred and fifty percent.

So with tears falling down my face and with my Google Maps calmly telling me to make a left onto Girard in 200 feet. I gave Robert one last hug and slowly, climbed in to the car.

“Ok. I am ready”  I said turning on the car and starting the ignition.

“It’s only ten months. We got this!” Robert said.

“We got this” I repeated.  He closed the door and stood back. I put the car in drive.  Looked out my window at Robert. He waved. I pulled out of his drive way. Robert was still standing there. I looked back one last time before turning onto Girard. He was still standing there…and with that I was on my way.

To be continued…

Missed Part 1 & 2? Don’t Worry! You can catch up here!

How YPP Began Part II

How YPP Began Part I

Want to keep reading?

How YPP Began Part IV

Photo credit: Rachel Abramowitz

This Monday I did something I never thought I would ever do… I was a guest on a podcast called “Nothing Nice to Say!”

There I was, sitting across from a video camera with a podcast host on each side of me. I was wearing headphones that were a constant reminder of how high pitched my voice truly is and I was trying my best not to kick the microphone stand with my fidgety feet. I had no idea what to expect but was so insanely excited that I felt my entire face smiling from ear to ear.

Thirty minutes later…

I was having a blast! Chatting about my business, my legendary High School Jewish Basketball days and asking as many questions as possible. Suddenly, I hear. “What do you think about Millennials?” At first, I didn’t realize who they were directing the question to but as I looked around, all eyes were on me. That’s when it hit me…I was the only millennial in the room.

As a creative, small business owner and Jewish, female, entrepreneur, the last thing I really think about is classifying myself as the generation I was in born into. But, I am part of a generation. I am part of the  Generation Y, Digital Natives, Generation Me, Generation Rent and Echo Boomers, Millennial generation (or whatever other name you want to use to describe us). We are the most researched and discussed generation known to date. We are the largest part of the Western work force and the most educated Western generation. Yet, for some reason, there is this negative connotation to the term “Millennial.”

If you ask me, being a Millennial is freaken awesome!

Being a Millennial has given me the confidence and the determination to go after my dreams. It has made me strive to be the best version of myself and to be true to who I am. It has forced me to be open minded, accepting, flexible and socially conscious. It has given me the characteristics that has allowed me to start a business and not settle for the typical 9-5 job. It has made me into a passionate hustler who wakes up every day even more excited than the last. I am mission based. I am fiery. I am focused.

As a generation, we care more about authenticity and less about playing the game. We want positive, genuine experiences instead of flashy, material possessions.  We want to grow, we want to be engaged and we want to do well. We want feedback so we can continue to grow, continue to be engaged and continue to do well.

We support brands that have deeper meaning and strong backbones. We want the shoes that we buy to send a matching pair to kids in third world countries. We want to know that the drinking straws we use are both saving the world and protecting our teeth enamel. We want to know that the products we buy are defending human rights and are against animal cruelty. We are a generation that loves our pets more than anything and 61% of us feel that it is up to us to make this world a better place even though we know it isn’t going to be easy.

So, to answer the question “How do I feel about Millennials?” Well, we live in a world that is very different than the one of our parents and grandparents. We live in a world where many of us are dealing with soul crushing student loans, a world that doesn’t have pretty pensions waiting for us and a social security system that might run out by the time we get to it, but we work hard, play hard and care hard. We are community oriented. We think globally instead of locally. We might still be living in our parents basements, but we are progressive, challenging and zealous. We don’t have all the answers, but we definitely try to make this world a better, more accepting place for the future. So I ask you this… what else could you really ask for?

You know, it’s funny… If you told me five years ago that I would be this excited that Robert bought us a brand new Ninja 1200 Blender, I would have fell off my chair laughing. I couldn’t bake. I couldn’t cook, let alone use a blender for anything more than a milkshake. Appliances didn’t interest me. New recipes? Forget about it, I couldn’t have cared less. The only time you saw me in the kitchen, I was using the microwave; and that was if I felt like being fancy… My how things have changed!

Seeing our new blender sitting on top of the counter in the perfect location between the knives and the sink made me smile from ear to ear. This blender has opened up the doors to endless possibilities and I could not be more thrilled! This blender has made post-workout protein shakes even better. Pureed soups can now totally be a thing and don’t even get me started on the idea of making my own home-made Peanut Butter!

It is truly amazing what a few years can do. I find myself always looking and searching for healthy new recipes with no added sugar. I constantly swap delicious and nutritious ideas with my friends and my Pinterest boards are no longer just shoes and coffee, but also oatmeal muffins, cauliflower rice and dairy-free chia seed pudding (and a TON of photography, but that is besides the point).

Five years ago, you wouldn’t have seen me without a Grande Soy Dirty Chai Latte in my hand. You wouldn’t have caught me reading the ingredients on the back of the box. And you would definitely not have spotted me using free-weights at the gym. So, as I open up the Ninja 1200 Blender and I start adding in all the whole ingredients to make our favorite Protein-Oat Muffins, I smile.

Things have certainly changed. I have surely evolved and my health and mindfulness has 100% improved. Life’s turning out way better than I thought it would be : )

Cheers to a happy and healthy life!

Matzah Ball Soup.

Yes, that is right, Matzah Ball Soup will forever and always be my favorite comfort food.

Over the years, I have noticed that everything seems better after a big, steaming bowl of Matzah Ball Soup. I feel lighter, happier and relaxed each and every time. It is truly amazing. It can be in the middle of the summer,  100 degrees outside with the blazing sun beaming down or it can be in the dead of winter, -10 degrees with freezing rain falling from the sky. It has become my answer to just about any issue. From just a simple cold, to any kind of emotional exhaustion and all the way to the worst of mental blocks. No matter what is going on in my life, if I need a little push in the right direction, Matzah Ball Soup has always worked. It is truly magical.

What is so good about Matzah Ball Soup, you may ask?

Good question. I’ve thought about this long and hard. I mean seriously, how can one soup can consistently bring me this much peace and comfort.

Maybe it has to do with the fact that no matter what time of year it is,  Matzah Ball Soup is always an acceptable part of a Jewish meal.

Maybe it has to do with the fact that when I was growing up, we would gather around the table every Friday night over a nice bowl of soup, fluffy challah bread, and great conversation.

And maybe it has to do with the fact that Matzah Ball Soup has become such a big, yet subtle part of the Jewish Culture.  No matter what your Jewish affiliation is, where you live or how you vote, if you consider yourself Jewish, Matzah Ball Soup is a part of your life in one way or another. Jews of all generations, of all walks of life and of all situations have paused, sat down and enjoyed a big warm bowl of soup.  What better way to make you feel more relaxed than knowing you are not alone. You are connected to this huge network of people. You are one small (but important) part of this incredibly big and awesome world.

Whenever I am having a bad day and I need a little nudge; I make soup. It has become somewhat of a religious experience for me. Soup is no longer just soup but a friendly reminder that everything will be ok.  If I am sick, I will get better. If I am feeling anxious, things will get easier. If I am dealing with some sort of mental block, that too will pass.

With every ingredient I throw in, I feel the weight of my adversity lift off my shoulders. With every Matzah Ball I roll, I feel a calmness fall over me and with every twist of the wrist as I stir, I feel serenity set in. And then, when all is said and done, all that is left is a delicious bowl of soup.

“What is your new year resolution?”

“I don’t believe in them?”

“Why not?”

“It shouldn’t take the beginning of a New Year to get you to want change or improve. It is just another day…”

We have this conversation every year and every year I think, “Ya… Robert is right.” I shouldn’t just want to be better because 2018 is long gone. I know that I’m not magically going to drink less coffee and sleep better hours. I know that my six pack abs and savings account aren’t going to appear out of thin air. I know that my personal goals and my business goals aren’t going to change over night.  But I also know that I love New Year Resolutions for one reason and one reason only. They are a friendly reminder that I am a person and I can change. I can be better, I can become stronger, I can work towards a goal and I can succeed. That’s right, I can succeed.

When I look back at how much has changed between January 1st 2018 and January 1st 2019, I am proud.

Don’t get me wrong, some of the big things have stayed the same (and I wouldn’t want them to change for the world).  Same City, same business, same house, same coat and same amazing and wonderful boyfriend.  It’s the little things in life that have changed and when you add them all up, they make such a difference.

Now, in order for me to stay accountable, I can’t just write down my New Year Resolutions and think that will work, I need to share it with the world! So here they are! Yael Pachino’s big New Year Resolutions 2019! Let the transformation begin!

Work- Life Balance.

As a small business owner, my business is always on my mind. I can always be doing something to promote myself, to learn more, brand better, engage with my audience more. Basically, my business can sometimes be all consuming. This year, I want to make sure I have a much better Work-Life balance because the people in my life, including myself, deserve my complete and total attention.

Become a morning work-out person.

I love working out, I really do. I have always envied those people who have gotten in a full work out, shower, had a hearty breakfast and make in to work on time. I may work from home, but it is my goal this year to be able to wake up, hit the gym, come home and get to work all before 8am! That way, the rest of the day is focused on my work, my friends, my Robert and myself.

Remember to bring my Reusable Grocery Bags while shopping

When I really think about how awful we treat our environment as a whole, it makes me worried for my future children and my future grandchildren! The least I can do is remember to bring my reusable big bag to the grocery store every week!

Read more.

The most successful people in life read and read a lot. This year, I am joining in on the fun and have become an active member of Sydney Marie Event’s Book Club for Entrepreneur Women… and I am actually going to read the books this time. Already half way through January’s book!

Double the number of weddings I photograph.

I am so proud and grateful for the amazing couples I photographed this past year and I want nothing more than to continue to capture weddings and meet incredible humans. My heart is so full of love and happiness from all the couples I worked with in 2018 and I can only imagine how awesome 2019’s couples will be!

Drink more water.

Self explanatory.

Be more mindful.

In what you may ask? In everything! When it comes to what I say, how I say it and who I say it to. When it comes to what I spend, how I spend and why I am spending it. When it comes to what I eat, what I drink, how much sleep I am getting etc… When I do things with intention and thought, the outcome is always better!

So there you have it guys! My New Year’s Resolution, now… which one of you is going to call me in March and see how I’m holding up?

Let’s hear your Resolutions! Comment below : )

Cheers to the New Year and to this beautiful new beginning!

x0,

Yael

Photo credit: Robert Goldberg : )

One week later: 

As I walked out of the metro station and turned to face DC’s Chinatown, I put my hand on the camera bag that was hanging from my shoulder. My Dad let me borrow his Canon Rebel and I was terrified of loosing it. I started walking down the street to the Starbucks on 7th, right around the corner from WeWorks.  I checked my watch, I was a little early, and I was NEVER early. To me, this meant one thing, I was SUPER excited to be there. As I ordered my customary Grande Soy Chai Latte (something I could never imagine ordering now), an older man, probably early 60’s, with long hair, a funky Hawaiian shirt, a cane and a fedora walked up next to me as we waited for our orders.

“You must be a photographer?” He nodded over to the camera bag on my shoulder.

I laughed. “Not really.” I say as I adjusted the bag strap awkwardly. “I’ve never actually used this camera before. I am about to take my first photography class.”

“That’s great! I love photography!”

“Really? I think I am going to also!” I said as the barista put my latte right in front of me on the counter. I grabbed the drink, muttered a quick thank you to the barista and said goodbye to the older man.

I was feeling pretty good about my new found hobby as I crossed the street to the WeWorks. I saw one other person waiting. Before I had a chance to introduce myself, I heard “Are you guys both waiting for the Photography Class?” I’m Sam.  I will be your teacher!” I turned around and lo and behold look who it is, the older man from the Starbucks. He had the biggest grin on his face as he watched my surprised expression.

He unlocked the door and held it open for us.

“What kind of DSLR do you guys have?” he asked as he turned on the lights and gestured to the conference table.

“What is a DSLR?”  I asked as I pulled out my seat and sat down.

“You must be a beginner” he said with a knowing smiling.

“Is it that obvious?” I carefully took my dad’s camera out of the bag. To be honest, it was the first time I was using any kind of camera, besides my phone and the disposable ones that I absolutely adored back at Jewish Sleep away camp, which totally doesn’t count.

The rest of the class started filtering in behind us “Welcome to photography for beginners. Let’s get started, shall we?” And with that, class began.

One hour later, I walked out of WeWorks. One thing was brilliantly clear, my life had changed forever. I know, it sounds a little dramatic, but it is 100% true. I cannot even tell you what Sam said in that one hour class, I cannot tell you which buttons I pressed or what I photographed that day, but I can tell you that I thank G-d everyday that I found Sam’s class online.

As I walked towards the metro ready to head back to Silver Spring. I pulled out my phone and texted Marisa. “What would you say if I told you I want to be a photographer.” I stepped onto the insanely long escalator, put my phone in my pocket and adjusted the camera bag again and felt a new type of warmth and satisfaction. My adventure began and I didn’t even really know it.

To be continued…

Missed Part One? Check it out here: “How it all Began Part I”

Want to read part III?: Check it out here: “How it all Began Part III”

I am not the only writer in my family… I actually am one of three. My beautiful sister who just moved to Israel with her family of six, blogs about their move, their transition and everything in between. My mom, took a more of an old school approach and went ahead and published two books! TWO BOOKS! Isn’t that just incredible?

I could go on and on about all of their writing and how amazing and personal their writing is, but instead, I wanted to share a chapter of one of my mom’s book.

“C5: From Impact to Recovery” is a wife’s memoir that shares one of the most life-altering experiences of our lives as a family. On May 3, 2013 my Dad was hit by a car as he was riding his bicycle only 5 minutes away from the house I grew up in. He was rushed to Shock Trauma and went through countless of surgeries, tests, physical therapy etc… my dad and mom’s strength, faith and perseverance is the definition of inspirational.

When my mom decided to write a book sharing their experience, she came to me and asked if she could include a short narrative I wrote for one of my college classes and I wanted to share it with all of you.

___________________________________________________________

 As I’m mindlessly flipping through my Hebrew notes for my quiz in about thirty seconds, I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. It’s a text from my mom. “Call me ASAP.” I reply automatically “Is something wrong?” As the teacher starts handing out the quiz, it’s no longer my biggest concern. I feel my phone vibrate again, and although I shouldn’t check it, I do.  “No.”  My heart stops.  I put my name on the quiz and hand it in without a second thought. As I fumble to grab my things, I see my hands are shaking. The girl next to me asks me if I’m OK. I give her a weak excuse for a smile and turn away.

             I dial my mom as I’m fleeing from the classroom. No answer.  A million terrible scenarios flash through my mind. I call her again as I rush down the stairs. No answer. Again. No answer. Finally she calls me back “Honey?” her voice isn’t as strong and sure as usual. I feel my eyes tearing up. Is it my sister? My grandmother? My cousin? “Mom, just say it.” I’m pacing back and forth right outside of Susquehanna Hall. I feel the sun beaming down on me, I hear the birds chirping above me, and I feel a lump forming inside of me “Daddy was in an accident, it’s really bad sweetie, you have to come here now. We’re in Shock Trauma.”

             My dad? My dad is never hurt. Never scared. Always strong.

“How bad is it?” I say as I lean against the wall for support. I hear my mom sigh. “I’m not so sure honey, just come here. I need you. I’m scared.”

I hang up the phone. I can barely breathe. I must be dreaming.  I have to be dreaming. I call my friend Martin and within an hour we are speeding down 95 to the University of Maryland Shock Trauma in downtown Baltimore. I don’t say a word. Martin doesn’t seem to mind. He puts his hand on mine. All I can think about is how horrible I’ve been. I haven’t spoken to my Dad in months. We’ve had our differences about religion and life choices. Last week he sent me an email saying how he wished we’d work through our problems. I didn’t reply. I told myself I’d reply when I was less busy, but honestly, I had no intention of responding. Too many things were said, too many feelings were hurt. Now, we might never have the chance to say anything. I might not have the chance to say goodbye.

             I grab my things from the backseat of Martin’s car.

“Everything will be OK, he calls out.  I thank him for the ride and run inside.

I’ve never been to the University of Maryland hospital. I look lost and confused and realize that most of the people in here are probably just as lost and confused as I am. A woman smiles at me from behind the welcome desk and asks me if I know where I’m going.

“Um, I’m looking for Shock Trauma.”

She gives me directions and slaps a pink wrist band on me, I mumble thank you and walk away. As I turn the corner I see familiar faces: the rabbi of our congregation, my mom’s best friend, my dad’s brother.

This can’t be happening.

             No one says a word, but my uncle points to a small waiting room at the end of the hall.  It feels like it’s a million miles away. I rush past them and finally see my mom. As our eyes meet I can’t hold back the tears any longer. She’s just standing there, looking small, scared and alone. Somehow, as if by magic, my legs move toward my mom and I’m finally within reach.

She grabs on to me. Everyone else leaves the waiting room.

“He’s a good man, he’s a good man,” my mom says as her tears fall down the back of my shirt. I stroke her hair. I whisper words of encouragement and force myself to stop crying because now I must be strong. Now my mom needs me in a way I wish she didn’t.

             Eventually I get my mom to stop shaking and sit down. As if on cue, the familiar faces return to the waiting room. My mom won’t let go of my hand. She clutches onto me as if I’m her last hope. People race around us. Doctors come in and explain that my dad will need to have three spine surgeries within the next 24 hours. They don’t know if he is going to be able to walk again. They don’t know if he is going to make it.

            I realize that I still don’t know how my dad ended up here. How I went from sitting in a college classroom to sitting in a Shock Trauma waiting room. As if she can read my mind, my mom explains that my dad was riding his bike and was hit by a car. The driver thought he could beat my dad but instead he hit him and sent him flying.

A young doctor leads my mom and me upstairs to see my dad. There are wires and machines everywhere. The only part of his body I can see is his face, swollen and bruised, his lip busted, two front teeth chipped, his eyes are disoriented and lost.

As they begin to wheel him out of the room my dad makes them stop in front of mom and mouths, “I was being safe, it wasn’t my fault” and then he’s gone. My mom and I stand there for a few more minutes.

She holds on to me and repeats, “He’s a good man Yael, he’s such a good man.”

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This day changed my life and my family’s life forever. My mom’s book is personal, vulnerable and beautiful in every way. I know I might be totally biased, but “C5: From Impact to Recovery” is a must read and I recommend all of you to click on over to Amazon, buy my mom’s book and read more about their strength and love.

This one goes out to all the families out there who have overcome the hurdles G-d has placed in front of you with grace and poise.

xo,

Yael