THIS MORNING

 This morning is different. This morning despite sunrise there will be no sun for me. For days and months to follow. This morning has shaken my world, awaking to remember after two glorious minutes of peace, what happened yesterday. Yesterday has changed all the mornings of the rest of my life. More important, the mornings of a 12-year-old struck with what should never be.

Yesterday we were surprised at the visit of a daughter and son in-law for a business reason - or so we thought. Only after they were settled in, hugs and kisses exchanged, were we told there was someone on screen for us. Seeing it was my son, I smiled, only to have that smile break, shatter, at the sight of my youngest. His world had evidently collapsed. While I waited for him to compose himself, the worries, the fears ran rampant through my heart and mind to my very core. So I waited, me, Gerry, Roni and Michael, the faces of Roni and Michael betraying a hint of what was to be. 

I waited. And then wished the day's sunrise had never been. Wished that I could turn back the clock. Wished that I could even understand how terrible my world had become. My heart was shaking, beating, faster than ever before. And then my world changed forever. My youngest grandchild, my sweet boy of 12, to be bar mitzva in May, the boy with all the blessings we thought G-d could confer, my sweet baby grandson, so tender with his new baby nephew and the responsibility to be a role model for him, had been diagnosed with cancer. 

NOOOOOOO!!!!!!!

NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!

NOOOOOOOOO!!!!

And into that black hole of despair, anger, bewilderment, horror, disbelief, and desperate love, came all the worlds of family and friends who reached out, within seconds of getting the unthinkable, yet so real, news. All hands and hearts tuned to the same frequency; all tuned to the same responses. All thinking, pleading, making deals with G-d as the oft repeated words of daily prayer came to mind. Now imbued with all too real emotion and purpose.

 Heal us, Hashem, then we will be healed; save us, then we will be saved; for You are our praise. Bring complete recovery for all our ailments, for You are Hashem, King, the faithful and compassionate Healer. Blessed are You, Hashem, Who heals the sick of His people Israel.”

 No more words said in habitual hurried recitation as work and plans awaited completion of prayers. No, for now each and every word now weighed in heavier than ever. The words were highlighted in our souls, burned there forever. The weight of multiple shattered lives and hopeful hearts, the young, shiny face of a sweet golden boy - will it be enough to endow the healing fingers doctors now assembled in a plan of massed and massive attack on the enemy, even as we turn to our ally above.  

 I pray.

I hope.

I cry.

Please join us as we pray for the healing of a wonderful child well on the way to becoming a young man, beloved by so may, one of the shining stars of the firmament.

Yitzchak Elimelech ben Chanah Sarah.

I cry again.

I try to hold my world together so I can be a help to others rather than a burden.

Let words of love and hope surround this child, bless him, protect him from Evil, from sickness, and allow him to grow up and contribute to a world so needy, so desperate for help.

Let us all join hands, hearts, and voices, put aside hate, and anger - at least for a time. May only goodness surround Yitzy - now and forever more.

May the broken hearts of mother, father, sisters and brothers, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins and friends carry enough weight and volume to accompany Yitzy on the challenging road ahead, to a full and complete recovery.