Last Friday was my Father’s Birthday. It was also the day that one of my best friends got married. And also the day that our family in Israel buried My Husband’s grandpa.

Celebrating with my dad – is something that I wish I could, but I know that my mom and their friends are taking good care of celebrating with him.

Not being in a good friend’s biggest day in her life (so far) is something that I assumed will have to happen at one point or another. Honestly, I didn’t think it will be that particular friend and this specific event. And honestly, it doesn’t make it less difficult or annoying. It doesn’t mean that I will ever forget the day that I wasn’t there. It doesn’t mean that it doesn’t put you in a spot that from now and forever you will be the person that wasn’t there. Even though I know that my friend is not mad, and I know that my friend knows that if I could, I would. I also know how disappointing it is. For everyone involved. And that it is probably something that will stay there.

And then there was Dani. The one thing that you can’t prepare. Or imagine. Or assume. Or want. Or believe. The one thing that makes you so sad. It’s not even the fact that you are not in Israel – You understand that you probably would not be able to change the reality. It’s just the fact that you weren’t there to help. Hold. Hug. Say.

We know that Dani wanted us to be happy. Wherever we are. No limits and no conditions. That’s just the way he was. Was. Past tense. So sad.

Cheers to the life we choose, to the choices we make. To being happy. All the things Dani wanted for us. We know you are there and can see that we are (trying our hardest to be) happy.

Salute Dadsi. Salute Coocka. Salute Saba Dani.

I love you all so much.

Moran,  San Francisco.

Saba Dani and us