{"id":2394,"date":"2015-12-20T22:06:42","date_gmt":"2015-12-20T20:06:42","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/hbne.co.il\/?p=2394"},"modified":"2019-11-05T13:41:39","modified_gmt":"2019-11-05T11:41:39","slug":"%e2%80%8f13-%e2%80%8f%e2%80%8e-moons","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/hbne.co.il\/?p=2394","title":{"rendered":"\u200e13 Moons\u200e"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"THUMBNAIL\"<\/a>
The T-Shirt Logo<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

The Power is Ours! At a theatre near you\u2026\u200e<\/h2>\n

Mazal Tov, it\u2019s celebration time!\u200e<\/p>\n

Could it be that every death is followed by another birth? Shortly after my father passed away, I \u200ebegan my \u201cbook of letters\u201d project. All of the letters (remember those days?) that my father and I \u200ewrote to one another were collected and words of tribute, poems and other sentimental writings \u200ewere added to the collection. I photocopied the works on lavender colored pages and bound a \u200elimited number of copies. It may have been a simple memento, but to this day it remains dear to \u200eme.\u200e<\/p>\n

I am a woman of action and this endeavor had my devoted attentions. Within the creative process \u200eI found both comfort and strength. While gathering and binding the pages, I read, reread and \u200esorted the letters and other materials. Throughout the process I felt my father\u2019s steady presence. \u200eEven today, anytime I feel his memory slipping away from me, it is enough to open the memento \u200eand leaf through the pages. It is but minutes before I can hear his voice. For a moment of grace I \u200eam with him again. \u200e<\/p>\n

Dancing With the Little Devil Inside<\/h2>\n

Shortly after my mother passed away, once again I donned a creative cloak of magic\u2026\u200e<\/p>\n

\"devil\"<\/a><\/p>\n

I was overpowered by a tremendous sense of loss. For the better part of the last three decades \u200eshe wallowed in a cauldron of calamities as her health deteriorated bit by bit, over and over again. \u200eShe was shuffled from doctor to doctor in an endless pursuit for answers which were more often \u200ethan not intolerable: insufficient and indefinite.\u200e<\/p>\n

We met up in Vancouver at the Rabbi\u2019s study. My brothers and I, our spouses and Dave, my \u200emother\u2019s chosen one, sat together and tried to paint an image of the woman that was. We found \u200eourselves reminiscing. Bittersweet memories and warm laughter came to life as we remembered.\u200e<\/p>\n

On the eve before the funeral, I found myself writing a eulogy for Mom. Although I had excelled at \u200ecreative writing as a child, with the exception of short text messages, I had not been writing much \u200eof anything lately.\u200e<\/p>\n

My sense of loss was compounded by the stark difference between the once upon a time promise \u200eand the tragic ever after. Earlier she battled to replace poverty, ugliness and ignorance with \u200ecomfort, beauty and education, latter the battlefield came closer, uncomfortably so, to home. \u200eOnce were she to question, \u201cMirror mirror on the wall who is the happiest of them all\u201d, she would \u200enot have been disappointed by the answer in the looking glass.\u200e<\/p>\n

Her story illuminated a cruel twist of fate as her vibrancy and passion faded in the shadow of \u200edisease.\u200e<\/p>\n

\"fordad\"<\/a>
Notice the T-Shirt – Our son was named after my father<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

\u200e<\/p>\n

My father was but 54 when he passed away from severe heart disease. My mother was afflicted \u200ewith Parkinson\u2019s and any number of disorders. Both of my parents parted from this world in an \u200eabundance of sickness, pain and heartache. Their hard fall from grace has, without a doubt, \u200einfluenced my wake in this world.\u200e<\/strong><\/p>\n

I am passionate about kindling change. It is about time that we awaken from our slumber. We have \u200ethe powers to part from this world on better terms. We need only choose to use them\u2026 \u200e<\/h3>\n

I began to ponder exactly how I could, on the one hand shake things up, while on the other hand, \u200ecreate a memento in memory of my parents. I wanted nothing short than for people to \u200eunderstand the powers of their day to day choices in molding their future destiny.\u200e<\/strong><\/p>\n

A Story is Born<\/h2>\n

Shortly after my mother\u2019s passing, I found myself writing a story about a magic mirror and a \u200ekaleidoscope, enchanting devices used to paint the connection between our choices and our \u200efuture. The story created a buzz of friendly traffic as I shared it on social media.\u200e\u200f \u200f<\/p>\n

At precisely the same time, I was privileged to view a magical short animated film, the collaborative \u200eeffort of two Ringling Brothers School of Art graduates. \u201cJinxy Jenkins, Lucky Lou\u201d is an upbeat, \u200emoving, colorful and poignant piece of art. I was deeply motivated to share and share away\u2026\u200e<\/p>\n

\n

JINXY JENKINS & LUCY LOU | One Unlucky guy finds a Lucky Gal – Cute Animation by Ringling<\/a><\/h4>\n

When the chaotically misfortunate Jenkins and the monotonously lucky Lou run into each other one morning, they find a thrilling and fulfilling change of pace as they hurtle down the hills of San Francisco in an ice cream cart.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n