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Linda Goldberg

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Linda Goldberg lives in Natick, Mass., where she belongs to the Chabad Center. She founded The Metro West Writers’ Workshop and led it for 17 years. She is blessed with four grandsons.
I remembered you saying, “If someone, even a stranger, has to bend down to ask, you have to walk over to give.”
For survivors of the sudden death of a spouse or family member, they wished they had a chance to say good-bye or say “I love you” one last time.
I have not lit the candles for the Shabbat or for the Jewish holidays since my pacemaker operation nine months ago. I was afraid of dropping the match and causing a fire—or so I told myself. But I am going to light the Shabbat candles tonight.
Being afraid to go out the door or being afraid of falling was like walking through life alone.
Many years we walked to the parade, but today, I cannot walk that far. Today, I am home alone with my memories.
Why do I have to endure such pain and disability? For what reason had G‑d given me more time?
“I have an obligation to tell my children the story of the Exodus from Egypt. Our children don’t even know what charoset is! I have a responsibility to remember and pass on the traditions.” Adam’s voice rang strong.
“Bring your husband to the hospital,” the doctor said after I told him Adam was having trouble walking because his feet were numb.
I’m falling, paralyzed by fear. Next thing I know, I wake up but I’m still falling—falling without a parachute.
Maybe I turned down the wrong street. They all look alike.
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