On the twenty-first day of the Omer, my husband’s heart attacked him. The following day, he underwent coronary bypass surgery. Reid is strong and is healing well; we expect him to come home before Shabbat. We count the hidden blessings: he realized he was ill while at work, Evanston Hospital. Without even a moment of delay, the situation was in hand. In a week, we would have been on an airplane to Italy to join E.G. and Mario. My years of illness have taught me that God’s hand is present in the details of mazal, the positive “what ifs” that soften the decree.

Established on May 14, 1948, the State of Israel had a painful birth and has lived with an uncertain future all her life. This year, especially, as the celebration of Yom Ha’atzmaut, Israeli Independence Day’ proceeds amidst an atmosphere of war and repeated terrorist bombings, our prayers and actions for peace and justice are the beribboned birthday gift of Israel’s heart’s desire.

Beth and Oren’s baby arrived last Monday night, the twelfth day of the Omer, Yom Ha’Shaoh, a day of Remembrance of the Heroes and Martyrs. His family and loved ones will welcome him into the covenant of Israel this coming Wednesday on Yom Ha’atzmaut, Israel Independence Day. Mazel tov!

Before we sat down to our first seder, cousin Martin asked for a moment of silence: 22 people had just been slaughtered in Netanya, doing exactly what we were doing. The second night, at Hyma and Marvin’s, we spent an extra moment considering the reading before the Third Cup, before we opened the door for Elijah, the door of our hope for a healed world.

I’ve never counted the Omer, so this year I’m going to give it a try. The idea of redefining time by sanctifying it appeals to me. Once an obstacle has been surmounted, we are faced with what to do next. Marking the journey of discover with a daily blessing might just make the trip easier.

I like to make my plans as early as possible. All my coping mechanisms compel me to figure out every detail in plenty of time to get used to them. I don’t like surprises, but life is surprising, unguaranteed. Even when we plan to plan, outside forces can get the upper hand.

After a long course of treatment, months of chemotherapy, weeks of radiation, I always felt like someone should strike me a medal. The relief and gladness were my reward. Then the vigilance began. Cancer patients, and I’m sure others who have survived aggressive treatment, remain on the lookout for relapse. Sometimes, unfortunately, the fight must begin anew, as it has for my email friend, Carleene. Hold her and others like her in your prayers for a complete recovery.

Recently, at a 60th birthday party for my friend, Marvin, and his identical twin, David, I met David’s in-laws. In their eighties, they are interesting, erudite and vital people, despite health difficulties. Last Saturday, we attended an 80th birthday dinner for my Uncle “Zip.” He, too, has slowed considerably, but remains connected to people and ideas around him. What is the secret to reaching advanced age with grace? At 50, I look back at what has been and ahead to the next journeys.

The month between Purim and Pesach should be a month to celebrate women’s courage. It begins with Esther and continues with the Hebrew women who smuggled food and offered comfort to their husbands as they toiled in Egyptian fields. We meet the midwives Puah and Shifra who defied Pharaoh’s order to kill the newborn Hebrew sons. Pharaoh’s daughter, Moses’ mother and his sister, Miriam all displayed strength and courage. This month we should celebrate our women who work at repairing the world, who survive illness to raise money for research, women who teach and learn and create and build, women who are the inheritors of ancient courage.

Making the decision to begin “talk therapy” is profound. It gets at the essence of who we are and asks that we start a process of revelation. Sometimes we will be filled with images that have been buried. Sometimes we will stumble in the memories. We begin the exploration, with God’s help.