For a few months now I’ve been having issues with my feet. I was certain that it was a re-awakening of my teenage “plantar fasciitis” (or as Menny calls it “Panther Ideeitis”). I worked with my trainer Aaron, did physical therapy next door to the Shul, soaked them in ice buckets, bought feet gadgets on Amazon, and did anything else I thought may work. It didn’t help. Walking back and forth from Shul on Pesach was hard, so the morning after the holiday, I visited the doctor. He x-rayed it, inspected it, maneuvered it and gave me the news that it’s a “torn tendon”. I’ve been wearing a walking cast-boot for a week now; it feels much better and G-d willing in a couple of weeks it will be healed.

I don’t have the words to explain how it feels to be living through the last six weeks. Honestly, we are all living through it, so you don’t need my words to address your lived experience. Throughout these last few weeks, I was having this feeling like “I wish I had something to say”, “I wish I can put some of my feelings into words”, “I wish I had the talent to write something beautiful and inspiring to comfort and uplift my followers, friends, and community”. Somewhere deep down I knew that the time would come that I would have something to share, and all the while I found so much comfort in reading and sharing the beautiful thoughts and posts from others.