This post was originally posted to my Facebook page on 5/29/15.

Dear Dad,
It’s Shabbat. Soon we will light the candles. I cooked today, sweet & sour lentils. I even made a banana bread. I haven’t found the joy in cooking again. But I am doing a little more of it. Feeling good at least to be feeding my family good food, healthy food, food that nurtures their bodies. Cooking & baking truly fed my soul before that phone call, before you took your life, before we buried you. I know that feeling will come back, but for now-no photos of my food, no recipes shared on social media, nope, I’m not there yet. I miss you dad. The words to Mourner’s Kaddish do not come easily. Simply uttering them makes the loss seem somehow so much more real & palpable. You were never really a religious man dad. I wonder if you had been, if it might’ve been easier for you to have “faith” that things would get better. It’s another one of those questions dad, the kind you’ll never answer, the kind I’ll never really get to ask. There are so many of those damn questions. Where are you dad? That’s another one–why can’t you come and visit me in a dream? Whisper to me in the wind and tell me you’re okay? I always wonder that dad-Are you okay? It’s Shabbat. We kindle the lights, we bless the wine & the challah. We welcome the Sabbath Bride into our midst. We wish for shalom, peace, on Shabbat. I haven’t found it yet Daddy. But I’m trying… I love you. And I miss you more than words can say.