This past Sunday I attended the entire morning prayer service (Shacharit) for the first time in a while. I went to recite Kaddish, the memorial prayer, since it was my father’s yahrzeit (anniversary of death). It has been a while since I prayed the entire morning service. I started in middle school and did so through my mid-20s, at which point I became too busy going on job interviews and subsequently working full-time. But much like riding a bike, I picked up the siddur Sunday morning and recited the prayers as fluidly as if I was still reciting them daily. Like a cherished childhood friend, we picked up right where we left off.
Published by Gila Daman
Author of Pandemic Poetry, She Pooped, I'm Pooped!: Motherhood Year One, First Comes Self-Love, Then Comes Marriage, and The Roadmap Ends Here: Entering Adulthood. This blog is dedicated to helping you cultivate happiness and attain inner peace. View all posts by Gila Daman