My Mom, My Giant In Every Way…

As many of you know, last Friday, February 11th, I have lost my biggest teacher, my guide, my personal coach, my mother in every possible aspect of the word.

I was very close to my mom.  And truly, the person I have become and the one you know, is all thanks to her; her teachings of tradition, of “Building a Home”, of GRIT, of daring, trusting, of sacred love, sacred marriage and sacred parenting….of “cooking love”, community and service.

This news has broken me to the core and I have wasted not one single moment on anything but grieving; of walking through the dark tunnel of loss. As I always tell you, pain and loss and any challenging emotion, should never be rushed or in any way, fast forward…..And if you truly sit with it, slowly messages and signs begin to emerge and help you RISE up again….Here are some I have slowly discovered and would like to share, in honor of my mother- Chanah Twati, daughter of Miriam and Machluf, born in Agadir, Morocco.

Last Thursday, 2/10, early, around 3am, my siblings notified me that our mother is struggling between life and death……Knowing my dedicated “Mamas of The Sunrise” had set their alarm to come move with me at 6:15 am “Rise and Flow”, made me decide to keep the class on and allow myself to move my emotions around and use the Yoga the way it was always meant to “USING THE BODY TO GET INTO THE MIND and slowly crack that space in and….break. Those Mamas (and ROBERTO) let me. We set with it, we warmed up and we moved our breath and movement in union and….tears….I will cherish this class forever!!!!!!

Laster that day I had my first Mammogram and throughout, felt my mom within me whispering “I know how you feel about Shabbat. Cook today, you may have nothing left tomorrow…..”.   I came home, rested my body and mind a bit and then I cooked….I cooked a lot….I was preparing…..

Indeed. I woke up exactly as my mom suspected, voided of PRANA, of the typically pretty good dose of a positive life force I was blessed to usually have. On our way to school that morning, just as we turned into WJHS, my brother texted – “Our mother has passed…”.  I dropped the kids with close to no breath left in me, came home, locked the the door and dropped down, weeping……

After a while, I needed something – signs, messages, meaning….and I was on a search. I looked at the time my brother texted all of us, and compared it with the time Shabbat had entered in Israel and indeed, a match!  My Mom left right when Shabbat came in – her favorite time of the week.

Sign One: My mom left at this time of the week where she called her daughters, all clean and ready, to light the candles, to welcome the Shabbat, to move from the weekly mundane to the Holy. From being busy and “separated” all week, to back together again. Every Friday Night, she had collected her kids from anywhere they were – school, army, university, life with their families, into her home, into her kitchen, on her table, under her “protective wing”.  Shabbat was her time to give us all rest and now, the time she was taken for her ETERNAL REST. Shabbat – to pause, to come to a full stop, to “strike” life  OUT!!!!!

I’m supposed to take my youngest boy, Ziv (G-D’s light), to her homeland, Morocco, for his bar Mitzvah, is it still right? I looked for signs….she passed on February 11th and exactly 30 days of mourning will fall on March 11th, my boy’s 13th birthday – the day scheduled for his Bar Mitzvah at my fathers’ childhood synagogue ….. Sign number two – wants me to go….we are going…..

Lastly, my mom’s name was Chanah, like one of the strongest, fierce woman in Judaism and who later on, was a role model in how to pray, how strong a prayer is, if came from the deep in.

The Prayer of Chanah:
Chanah was praying days and nights for a son; her lips were moving but no words or sound came out….everyone thought she was drunk or crazy or both….later on she gave birth to an important prophet- Shmuel (Samuel).

See, my mom also had her own power in prayer. Not knowing how to read or write, every early morning, with her hand on the Mezuzah (that box on Jewish homes with G-D’s name in it), she had her “CONVERSATIONS WITH G-D”.  These were long, meditative prayers to the world, to her family, for the sick…

I watched her one morning, when I was in third grade (my littlest girl’s age), and have done the same since….I pray for the world, for the community, for my family, for the sick…..

Don’t loose the beauty of signs, the power of love and the GRIT hidden in prayer. You do not need a specific script, a religion, a facilitator…. Just speak to G-D the way you would to your best friend, to the tree, the wind….your SOUL.

I have had a few more messages since then, but the above are universal and the kind I wanted you to visit and revisit whenever you are in need….

A deep humble gratitude to all of you who have called, texted, emailed, sent cards, flowers, food and what not….but most of all, thank you for helping me make Neshama into what I have envisioned it to be- a place to FEEL!

This week’s classes are all dedicated to my Imma and her legacy, with music, messages and movement planned accordingly.