When Rabbi Conover asked yesterday what she could do for us, Philippe had the genius idea to ask her to help us celebrate Shabbat. Thanks, Phil, for realizing that bringing our family tradition to the hospital would make us all feel more at home. Charlotte sat up voluntarily, smiled at the sight of the candles and challah and we all benefitted from the rabbi’s blessing and the light she always shines on us.

Somewhere my father is smiling on us. I know he is. And in New Jersey, Massachusetts, Virginia and Georgia, I know the rest of the family is, too.

Charlotte’s interventionist cardiologist stopped by to say hi as we finished. Both he and our nurse said, “I smell challah. Sorry to have missed your celebration.”

Shabbat Shalom, ya’ll.