I believe in Hashem and I believe that this is somehow all good. I don’t know why, but I believe, I believe, I believe

The news about my mother was bad. The cancer was advanced. The doctors didn’t have much hope. But they did say that they would try to do whatever they could. Within days, we had a new vocabulary, full of words like hospital, chemo, and radiation.

Yehudah stayed with us until Mommy had decided on a doctor and a treatment plan. But his family was going crazy without their space and routine. He needed to get them home.

The community was extremely supportive. They created tehillim programs and shemiras halashon campaigns. They did grocery shopping, sent over suppers, and drove Mommy to her appointments.

I appreciated it so much. It meant so much to me. And yet, I felt a big, empty hole. I felt hollow with loneliness.  As I sat next to Mommy, I would get lost in my daydreams, in a world of just imagine.