This week has been one of the hardest I can remember.
My mom underwent emergency surgery and is now in the ICU, still fighting and healing. These are the moments we all hope never come, yet so many of us experience them at some point in our lives. They have a way of stopping everything else and reminding us what truly matters.
Through it all, I have been overwhelmed by the kindness of our community and the incredible support from my staff. Their willingness to step in, check on me, and keep everything moving has meant more than I can put into words.
I’ve always believed that food is more than something we eat. It nourishes us, but it also comforts us. It gathers people together, creates memories, and quietly says, “I’m here for you,” even when words aren’t enough.
Every day this week, I’ve found myself packing meals for my family, making sure everyone has something to eat and taking care of one another. When life feels uncertain, making sure the people you love are fed somehow brings a little sense of normalcy.
This morning, I woke up early and made a batch of chocolate chip challah rolls. I brought some to the incredible nurses, doctors, and staff here in the CVICU as a small way to thank them for the compassion and care they have shown my mom. They work tirelessly, often without recognition, and I wanted them to know how much their kindness means to our family.
I also keep doing what I know how to do—working. I answer emails, plan events, solve problems, and keep myself busy because, for me, having something to focus on helps me through the difficult moments. At the same time, I know that without my amazing team, Mosaic wouldn’t keep moving forward. I am incredibly grateful for each and every one of them.
It’s funny how our minds work. A smell, a taste, or a familiar recipe can instantly transport us to a place where we felt safe and loved.
For me, it’s warm challah fresh from the oven. The smell immediately takes me back to Friday afternoons at my grandparents’ house before Shabbat. I can still picture walking in after school, knowing Shabbat was almost here.
I think about the sautéed mushrooms my grandpa always made just for me with soy sauce, simple but somehow perfect every time. I think about my mom’s famous dessert bars—so many different flavors, always baked ahead and tucked away in the freezer. My siblings and I would quietly sneak them whenever we could. More than once, a party would roll around and my mom would discover the freezer boxes mysteriously empty. Needless to say, she wasn’t thrilled, but those memories still make me smile.
As Shabbat approaches, I find myself especially grateful for what it represents. A chance to pause. A chance to gather with the people we love. A reminder that even in life’s hardest moments, there is still peace to be found.
My hope this week is that Shabbat brings my mom rest and healing, gives strength to our family, and reminds all of us to cherish the people around our tables.
If you have someone you’re thinking about this week, give them a call. Share a meal. Bake something together. Sometimes the greatest comfort isn’t found in grand gestures, but in the simple act of being present.
Wishing you and your family a peaceful, healthy, and comforting Shabbat.
Shabbat Shalom
