By Rabbi Rachel Esserman

I’ve written before about how I like to pause during the fall holiday season and appreciate the many things in my life for which I am grateful. Since parts of 2024 were emotionally difficult for a number of reasons, this feels even more important this year.

Some of these blessings are things we take for granted because we are lucky enough to have immigrated to or been born in the United States. For example, I’ve never lived in a war zone (although not everyone in the U.S. lives in a safe environment) and our democracy offers us freedoms not found in many other lands. I know there are debates about our political system, but recognizing the many blessings we have gives me the courage to work to keep our country strong. 

I know people bristle and become defensive at the thought of being called privileged, but I embrace the idea because my life is an example of privilege. I live in my parents’ house (one I could never afford to buy) on land that my grandfather purchased for them. Although I’m sure my brother, who is half owner, could use the money if we sold it, he encourages me to remain in our family home. Even though my parents were not what anyone would consider rich, I left college and rabbinical school with no debt. My rabbinical school tuition was paid from a fund owned by another branch of my extended family. Even more important, my parents believed in me when I had health problems, although there were family members and friends who thought I was faking and should be thrown out of the house. I’ve written before about how my mother would have gone to the end of the world to find a cure for my health issues. Not everyone is blessed to have had parents who believed in them. 

When I faced back issues this summer, my friends and community rallied around me. I was on vacation visiting a friend when we realized I really needed to see a doctor. That friend let my four day vacation extend into six and would have allowed me to remain with her family as long as I needed. Her care was wonderful and I am so grateful to her. (Although I do think I could have walked up and down the stairs by myself. If I fell on her, both of us would have ended up in the hospital. But I did and do appreciate the reasons why she wanted me to be extra careful.) When I returned home, I had people volunteering to go grocery shopping for me and then received enough meals that I didn’t have to cook for almost a week. (I don’t like the back problem, but, boy, I could get used to not having to cook.)

I am also grateful for Facebook. Yes, social media was an excellent way for me to let people know what was happening. The outpouring of support and suggestions let me know that people cared. As a single person with no children, it’s wonderful to know I have a community that will step up. The support was especially meaningful when what I thought would be a simple diagnosis of a pulled muscle turned out to be the more complex one of severe spinal arthritis. That came as a shock and I coped the way I normally do. First, I fell to pieces. (Yes, that is always my standard first response.) Then I pulled myself together after a few days and began figuring out how to cope with the problem. (That is my standard second response.)

Another important thing to remember this time of year is that the privilege I have is mostly based on luck. I know some theologies posit that God decides everything that happens to us, but that’s hard for me to accept when I look at all the suffering in the world. I am lucky my relatives were either smart or fortunate enough to leave Europe before the Holocaust. I am lucky that they came to the United States. I am lucky that my father went out for ice cream when he attended Harpur College after World War II because my mother would never have sat at that table in the library if she’d known those were his books. They might not have dated; they might never have married. I might not exist, at least in this form of me. 

However, it is not always easy to pause and think about my life. There are many things I wish were different, including not having lost years dealings with my health problems. Nor is it always easy to live with a hearing loss that radically changed part of my life. But these challenges made me who I am and I don’t know who or what I would be without them. I’ve also become more emotional about Rosh Hashanah since my mother died the morning before the holiday began in 2022. Losing her left me more time to focus on different concerns since I no longer had to worry about her health and safety.

I know we get caught up in family gatherings and food and rushing to services, but sometime during the holiday, take a moment to look at your life and appreciate the good things you have. It might affect the way you think about your faults and the changes you may want to make during the upcoming year. Acknowledging our blessings can make a big difference.

Wishing everyone a shanah tovah, a healthy, joyous New Year.