Hi all,
This is Ruchi. Some of you may know that I have been praying for the well-being of the baby of a friend of mine, Tziporah bat Rachel.
Well, the parents of this beautiful little girl are friends of ours who also used to join us each month for Partners in Torah, Daniel and Rachel Dadusc. They have set up a website to facilitate communication surrounding the illness of their daughter, and this post appeared recently. I was so touched and moved that I asked Rachel if it would be OK to pass it along to all of our JFX friends. Of course they agreed. Here it is, in Daniel's own words...
A couple nights ago was the first night of Chanukah, and like the first night of any of the holidays, we make a special brachah (blessing) just for that one night. So when we lit the Menorah, we said the two blessings for Chanukah and then we added on the blessing of "Shehecheyanu." Now loosely translated, "shehecheyanu" is thanking Hashem (God) for keeping us alive and sustaining us to make it to this holiday again.
Now for the past so many years of my life, every time I said it, I probably said it like most people, as just par for the course and zipped right through it without much thought.
However, this year it means a lot more to me than it ever did. When my father passed away, it was definitely a big shocker to the whole family since it happened so suddenly, and he was only 68, but still, he was getting up there in age and so it wasn't out of the realm of understanding. So it did obviously affect me in many ways, but it didn't neccesarily instill in me the appreciation for making it from one year to the next, or even one day to the next. I was 23 and invincible and I had plenty of time till I had to worry about whether or not I'll be here next year.
Well, I still think I'm invincible to a degree, and I sure hope I am considering that we live in a city that refuses to salt the streets even when covered in ice. But now that my little baby girl is in a life-threatening situation, it really makes me take a minute to think and appreciate that I am here with all the rest of my family and that we are able to celebrate Chanukah this year, together. That maybe I do take it for granted that I am here and nothing can happen to me, because there's no guarantee from one day to the next.
Rachel's grandfather keeps giving us and Tzippy a brachah that we should all be here together next year on Chanukah. Thank G-d, he's closer to 100 than he is to 90 and he's going strong, and he appreciates it and makes the best of every day that Hashem (G-d) gives him strength to be with his wife, children, grandchildren and great grandchildren (and his obviously favorite grandson-in-law.... ;-) Shhhh, don't tell my brother-in-law.
So on the eve of going in for round four of chemo, I think to myself how I should learn to appreciate every day that Hashem gives me with all of my family and how much I should really joyfully shout out the blessing of "Shehecheyanu" the next time it rolls around.
But in all honesty, when I did say the blessing the first night of channukah, I had one tired cranky little girl, a daughter who was about to run out to ice skating with her friends and two boys who would have been hanging from the chandelier if they could have gotten away with it and my baby who was wandering around with a piece of schnitzel and seemed to get way too close to the table with all the menorahs no matter what we tried to do. So did I say it with all the heartfelt "thank you" to Hashem that I just described.... Not a chance. However, I did think about it briefly while I was lighting, which is better than I usually do.
We know we've been remiss in keeping up with the updates here, but honestly, not really much exciting has been going on. The chemo definitely seems to be doing its job and the stays in the hospital have become pretty uneventful. Rachel is still taking Tzippy in every couple of days and boy does Tzippy love it. She has a blast over there, everybody fawning over her, giving her toys to play with and cookies or candy to nosh on.
If she were older, she'd be all depressed for the obvious reasons, but since she really has no clue what's going on, she's loving it!
The Nurse Practitioner, Barb, taught Rachel how to feel the difference between the tumor and the rest of her belly. So please only refer to my wife as either Doctor Dadusc or just plain Doctor.
Signing off, Daniel
