Tag: friendship

The journey of life on that ‘Red Dirt Road’

Posted on by Keith Dvorchik

This week I had a number of songs that I was considering writing about.  One of the great things about music, and art in general, is that when you begin paying attention to it, there is inspiration all around.  I finally settled on a 2003 song by Brooks and Dunn called Red Dirt Road.  It’s a song about growing up in a small town, the lessons you learn in places that get burned into your mind and memory, and the dreams of youth compared to the realities of adulthood.  It seems like something worth digging into.

The song begins:

I was raised off of rural route three, out past where the blacktop ends.
We’d walk to church on Sunday morning and race barefoot back to Johnson’s fence.

That’s where I first saw Mary, on that roadside pickin’ blackberries.
That summer I turned the corner in my soul down that red dirt road.

We all grew up in different places, many of them with more similarities than differences.  Growing up in the 70s and 80s meant that we spent a lot of time outside, riding bikes to friends’ houses, playing in the streets, at the creek, in the woods – whatever we could discover.  It didn’t matter where you were raised, there was always a place where the blacktop ended, where there were fences to jump, fields to play in, dirt to roll around in, mud to get all over you.  And as we played outside, there was usually a spark with somebody that got you interested in being more than just friends.  That initial spark, as they sing about, turned a corner in our soul as we went from children to young adults.  And that first spark, that first love, that first interest in somebody else, likely impacted the rest of our lives as we searched for that partner to spend our lives with.

There are many of these type of moments in our lives in which that first spark is created that drives an interest we keep for the rest of our lives.  I still remember my first NY Yankees game at the Stadium in 1976.  It was electric.  There was excitement in the air.  It felt special and when the Yankees won in the bottom of the 9th I was completely hooked on baseball, the Yankees, and Yankee Stadium.  Nearly 50 years later that hasn’t changed.  I still love going to baseball games and taking my family.  My kids are big baseball fans because of the spark that I had in 1976 and the desire for them to find that same spark as they grew up. 

Yankee Stadium in 1976
Yankee stadium with Evan – I took both kids on their own trips
Yankee Stadium with Matthew on his trip. My brother Lawrence and niece Hannah joined us for one game

While neither are Yankee fans now, I had my moments when they were little

I remember the spark that turned into a career.  That first fundraising gift that I closed.  The excitement of what it was going to enable to happen.  How that would change the lives of other people.  25 years later, I still get that rush when I have the opportunity to raise money to do something that will change lives.  What it feels like to do something that changes lives.  Hearing from people the impact had on them many years later.  All coming from a spark.  Yesterday I spoke with a friend that I met nearly 25 years ago.  I have loved following his journey and am proud to have a played a small role in his life.  It was amazing to hear how much we have in common today, how that spark that was created 25 years ago has continued to grow and how we are both impacting people in different ways. 

So while Brooks and Dunn are singing about a romantic spark, they are really talking about so much more.  It’s the spark of spirts connecting beyond romance.  It’s the connections that occur when you have that organic experience.  Mary was picking blackberries.  I can think of so many other people in my life where that spark happened in other random places. 

Her daddy didn’t like me much in my shackled-up GTO
I’d sneak out in the middle of the night throw rocks at her bedroom window.
We’d turn out the headlights and drive by the moonlight
Talk about what the future might hold, down that red dirt road.

It’s never about what other people think.  Daddy didn’t like him, but it didn’t matter and didn’t stop him.  Once there is that spark and that connection, nothing stops it.  As I look at the various people in my life where that spark of connection built a lifelong relationship, it never mattered what other people thought.  It doesn’t matter about the outward differences because of that soul connection.  If I wanted to focus on the differences, I’d see people of various ages, genders, economic status, political party affiliation, religions, races, and so much more.  I have never let any of those differences interfere with that connection.

When I think of my best friends, the people who I talk with regularly, the men who I call brother, the women I call sister, it’s amazing to see the internal connection yet the external difference.  It shows that what other people think doesn’t matter.  One is an Orthodox Jew, another is Christian, yet another is almost 20 years older than me and African American and Christian, another is a gay man.  My friends are just as diverse.  Some have significant incomes, and some don’t.  Some are older, some are my age, and some are younger.  They are Jews, Muslims, Christians, Bhai, and atheist. They are my friends because of who they are on the inside, not because of who they are on the outside. The world today may tell me that we are very different, but we are not – we are connected through the soul and those differences don’t matter. 

If I were to listen to what is being said in the world today, they wouldn’t be my friends.  Just like the ‘daddy’ in the song who didn’t like him, I wouldn’t be allowed to like my friends.  I’d have to sneak around to be friends with them.  So, while the world wants us to focus on the differences, I choose to focus on the similarities.  I choose to focus on the connections I have with my friends.  I’d rather talk about the future and how our experiences can help each other get through life.  I’d rather live in a world where people are judged by who they are and how they act rather than some generic stereotype based on their religion, skin color, ethnicity, or sexual identity.  It’s a much better way to live.

It’s where I drank my first beer
It’s where I found Jesus
Where I wrecked my first car
I tore it all to pieces.

Those special places from our childhood have special meaning to us.  So much of our lives happened in those small towns, random places, with childhood friends.  There is that place we gathered to drink.  The special place to go with a date.  One of my friend’s fathers lived in an apartment and his fiancé had her own apartment.  His dad stayed at his fiancé’s apartment so that apartment became our special party place.  Nearly 40 years later we still talk about the apartment, the parties we had there, and the stories of what happened there.  The JCC in Harrisburg, PA which was a place my Jewish and non-Jewish friends would spend time.  City Island for concerts, the Susquehanna River for sailing.  There are so many special places, our red dirt roads, that will always have special meaning to me and to my childhood friends. 

These places continue throughout our lives.  There are those locations where meaningful things happened, where relationships were formed and cemented.  I moved to Gainesville in 1992 and as I made friends, those places developed.  Skeeter’s and their giant biscuits.  Our weekly group of 20 that would go to Perkins.  The weekend breakfast at 43rd Street Deli. Bill (z’l) and Rick’s (z’l) house on Monday nights for Chinese food and Northern Exposure.  So many places that are tied to powerful memories of friendship.  So many red dirt roads.


I learned the path to Heaven
Is full of sinners and believers
Learned that happiness on Earth
Ain’t just for high achievers (I learned)
I’ve come to know there’s life at both ends
Of that red dirt road.

It’s the time we spend on our own red dirt roads that teach us so much.  We build those friendships that last a lifetime.  These lessons teach us that people are people.  Throughout our life, we make mistakes and that we behave ethically.  Nobody is perfect.  The ‘path to heaven’ isn’t just for believers and doesn’t exclude sinners.  We have the ability to change and do better.  We all make mistakes.  The key question is if we learn from our mistakes.  Do we strive to improve?  Are we willing to accept the limitations and challenges put upon us or are we going to put for the effort to do better than where we began? 

The next line talks about happiness is for everybody.  It’s not just the best of the best.  We all have the right to be happy and can be happy.  The key is measuring ourselves against ourselves.  If I base my definition of success against the financial success of Bill Gates, Warren Buffet, or Jeff Bezos, I will always fall short.  I will never measure up, never be ‘successful’.  It’s fool’s gold.  But if instead, I look to measure myself against my needs, it’s a different story.  I have a place to live, and I like it.  I have a job, food, a vehicle, clothes, and the ability to do things I enjoy.  Happiness is entirely defined by the expectations I put upon myself.  I don’t have to live in the most expensive home, drive the most expensive car, have multiple vacation homes, etc. to be happy.  Happiness isn’t just for the ‘high achievers.’ 

Over the years, I have spent a lot of time talking with my ‘spiritual advisor’, Mickey Singer, about happiness.  How it’s truly self-defined.  How we choose to limit ourselves in our happiness because expectations.  Brooks and Dunn are telling us clearly that to be happy is actually easy.  It’s the difference between having what you want and wanting what you have.  As long as our basic needs of food, shelter, and clothing are met, the rest is merely a matter of perspective.

Mickey’s teachings are truly inspiring
Mickey taught me that happiness is a choice. I choice to be happy.

The last line of the verse is one of my favorites.  I’ve come to know there’s life at both ends of that red dirt road. It doesn’t matter where we have come from or where we are today.  Life exists in all places.  One isn’t better than the other.  They are different points on the journey we call life.  We may look back at the time on that red dirt road and remember ‘the good old days’, but they rarely were as good as we remember, and the times today are usually just as good if not better.  They are just different.  I think back to childhood and my red dirt roads, and they are great memories.  Far better than the actual time was. We embellish, we remember differently now than what it was then.  There are pieces we long for.  It sounds so great now to think back to when I lived in my parents’ house, and everything was taken care of for me.  I didn’t have any real bills to pay.  The stress level, in hindsight, seems like it was so much lower than as an adult with life responsibilities.  I also know that if I could go back and talk to the me of that time, that me would tell this me that the stresses I faced were real and could be overwhelming.  Pressure of college acceptance, high school cliques, living under my parents’ rules.  And that me would tell this me how lucky I am that I have my own home, set my own rules, get to pick the career I want and spend my money the way I want.  It’s all relative.

The important message for me in this section of the song is to enjoy the moment.  Each moment in our live is a unique opportunity to experience life.  When that moment is gone, so is the opportunity to experience and learn from it.  Both sides of the red dirt road are valuable and important.  One isn’t better than the other.  Life is a journey until it is over, why would we want to miss out on any of it and the opportunities that each step in that journey provide.  It’s not about being a sinner or a believer.  It’s not about the good old days or the challenges of today.  It’s about the journey of life that we get to experience and enjoy, if we choose, until it ends.

Mickey taught me this and it’s something I live by. When I read it, I can hear his voice telling it to me

I went out into the world, and I came back in
I lost Mary, oh, I got her back again
And driving home tonight, feels like I found a long-lost friend.

The song’s last verse has a haunting piece to it.  We leave our hometown.  We leave our childhood friends, lovers, families, and red dirt roads to go out into the world and experience it.  Whether it is college, the military, jobs – it’s the next step in our life journey and we leave things behind.  At some point we have the opportunity to reengage with our original red dirt roads, with our childhood friends.  It’s rarely what we thought it would be like.  Those childhood crushes that we thought and hoped would turn into something more, never did.  Our lives and theirs took different paths. Some of those childhood friends have passed away young.  Others have had serious life challenges.  Yet others have been wildly successful.  We lost the dream of the future when we were children, but we didn’t lose the people in the dreams.  It’s just different.

Bruce Springsteen’s ‘My Hometown’ captures this essence as well.

I think of my own life and some of the relationships I had with those childhood friends.  Some I thought might be forever romantic partners and they aren’t.  Some I thought would be best friends and we would be connected forever, and we aren’t.  Others have become better friends over the years or at a later time, when we reconnected, ended up being closer than we ever would have imagined. 

In the song, he lost Mary as a lover and future partner.  His life, and hers, went on different paths than they ever imagined.  Yet the opportunity to reconnect was there and they did.  It wasn’t what they thought it would be on the original red dirt road, however it’s still special. It’s still important and meaningful.

I am grateful that I still have some type of relationship with so many of the people from my red dirt roads.  They are all very different.  Some are more casual and connected mainly online.  Others we text and talk.  Still others we make time to see each other as often as possible.  The quality of the relationships is high, no matter what it was like as children or how often we get to see each other.  The time on our red dirt road bonded us in a way that can never be broken. 

At the end of the day, I think that’s what inspires me most about this song.  It’s truly about experiencing the journey of life and realizing that the connections we make with other people can last a lifetime.  But it takes effort.  If he hadn’t reached out to Mary and reconnected with her, it would have been a relationship that was inactive.  If we want the beauty of the journey of life, it takes ongoing effort, knowing that the work we put into relationships in the past isn’t wasted and isn’t gone, it just needs to be rekindled.  When I listed to Red Dirt Road, I find myself filled with gratitude for the experiences and relationships I had as a child and the opportunities to continue those relationships as an adult. 

To truly experience the journey of life, it takes effort.  And it’s effort that is always rewarded.

Live Like You are Dying

Posted on by Keith Dvorchik

I am the first to admit that I am not up on the newest trends.  Whether it’s fashion, movies, language, or music, I am always late to the table.  Recently I discovered the Tim McGraw song Live Like You are Dying that was released in 2004 (only 20 years behind the times!) that of course was the #1 song on the US Country Billboard chart for 7 weeks. Like I said, I’m behind the times.

As we enter a new year, 2024, the lyrics struck me deeply as a guide for how to live my life. The song was written by Tim Nichols and Craig Wiseman who based it on family and friends who learned of illnesses (cancers), and how they often had a new perspective on life upon learning they had limited time. 

When one person asks the other what they did with this news, their answer was simple, beautiful, and powerful.  The answer is:

I went skydiving, I went Rocky Mountain climbing I went 2.7 seconds on a bull named Fumanchu.
And I loved deeper, and I spoke sweeter, and I gave forgiveness I’d been denying.

What an inspiration. Upon learning of a potential life ending medical condition, their decision was to invest in life.  To invest in living every moment possible.  To do the things they always wanted.  To feel the exhilaration of life.    I find myself wondering why it took the diagnosis to make the investment in life.  Why do we often wait until it is too late to do the things that we really want or that really matter?

Often times we put the things that society values in front of living.  We feel the need to work more, have more money, more things, a nicer car, a bigger house.  It often takes a major life event for us to realize our priorities are in the wrong place.  Would my life be any less if I drove a less expensive car?  Had a less expensive house?  Wore less expensive clothes or jewelry? 

In Bali I did the swing and it was incredible. I’ve been skydiving. It’s important to do the things that are fun in life.

Horseback riding on the beach in Netanya, Israel with my friend Remo. These opportunities come up for all of us and we need to remember not to miss them.

The next line in song is haunting.

Someday I hope you get the chance to live like you were dying.

We get this chance every single day.  Do we want to be home for dinner with the family or work that extra hour or two?  Do we want to take our children to their doctor appointment, watch their sporting events, plays, recitals, and concerts or spend more time working, accumulating ‘things’. Why do we have to hope that “someday” we will get this change when we have it every single day.

The second verse talks about the person they want to be.  As I read the lyrics, it reminded me of the things that are really important to me.

I was finally the husband that most of the time I wasn’t, and I became a friend a friend would like to have.  And all of a sudden going fishin’ wasn’t such an imposition and I went three times that year I lost my dad.  Well, I finally read the Good Book, and I took a good, long, hard look at what I’d do if I could do it all again

Fishing with Evan and my nephews Nick and Caden. It was a fun day, especially because I caught all the fish! Memories are priceless.

The past 15 months have been life changing for me.  My father died in September 2022.  We had a very close relationship and the last few weeks of his life I got to be there for him on a daily basis.  The ability to do that was one I will always treasure.  His passing started a process of self-evaluation and reflection that continues today. 

When my children were little, I had the flexibility to take them to their doctor appointments and almost always did.  I didn’t miss a performance or sporting event.   As they got older and my travel requirements for work changed, I began missing some things when I was out of town however, I did my best to schedule around their appointments and events.  A friend of mine gave me wise advice when my children were little.  He said, “Every age is the best.”   As such, I wanted to fully engage with them at every age and through every phase. 

There came a 3-year period of time when work was overwhelming, and I was not able to engage this way.  I remember how I felt during that time period and how much I didn’t like it.  I remember feeling like I was not the father I wanted to be.  I was not setting the example that I wanted for my children.  I was not being the person that I wanted to be.  So, I made a change.

The past years have been filled with time invested with my family.  I have incredible memories I have with both of my children are ones that will last a lifetime.  The time visiting colleges for football recruiting with my oldest.  Friday night lights watching him play football in high school and then with UCF and coaching high school football.  The spent with my younger son at Jaguars games and theater at the Dr. Phillips Center.  Eating dinner as a family.  Holiday celebrations together.  Birthday traditions, family vacations. 

At the UFC fight – it’s become a tradition for Evan, Matthew and me to go.

Matthew and me at the 2022 White House Hanukkah Party. A memory with stories we will always remember

I had the chance to take my nephew Jacob to the Braves-Mets game in Citi Field. Time together is irreplaceable. 

On the drive to Tennesse to move Evan in to start as a GA coaching football at Tusculum College, he wanted a little detour to stop at the University of South Carolina football stadium. Worth every minute of the detour.

At my father’s funeral, my brother, sister, and I all spoke about him.  None of us talked about how much he worked.  None of us talked about the material things that we had.  It wasn’t important that we didn’t have the most expensive home, car, or clothes.  We talked about the person my dad was.  We talked about the time we spent with him.  We told stories about him and the impact he had on our lives and the lives of our friends.  I wrote in a previous blog how my dad told somebody that he wasn’t afraid of dying.  He was just sad about the things he would be missing.  I truly believe that is because when he “took a good, long, hard look at what I’d do if I could do it all again” he found little that he would do differently when it came to his family. He was ‘a friend a friend would want like to have’ and inspires me to make sure that I am as well.

Evan with my longtime friend Darryl. Darryl is a college football coach and has served as a mentor to Evan. A friend a friend would want.

The final verse of the song teaches me to do it now, not wait.  The lyrics state:

Like tomorrow was a gift and you’ve got eternity to think about what you’d do with it.
What could you do with it? What did I do with it? What would I do with it?

I decided years ago that I didn’t want to live with regret.  I never wanted to look aback on my life and regret missing out on things.  As my oldest is almost 24 and living his dream as a college football coach (graduate assistant) in Tennessee and my youngest is 21 and finishing his Junior year at UCF, I look back at time when they were young without regrets.  I took advantage of the time with them to fully immerse myself in being there.  I was cautioned by others to take advantage when they still wanted me around because the day would come when they didn’t any longer.  I’ve been blessed that they still want me around.  That we still do things and go places together.  That my oldest wants me to come to watch him coach.  That my youngest wants to go to sporting events, concerts, the theater with me.  That they both want to go on vacation with their parents. 

Evan, Matthew and me the night before he coached in the conference championship game. I wouldn’t trade the 10 hours each way with Matthew or the chance to watch Evan coach for anything.

Alison, Matthew, Carla and me at the Orlando Ballet performance of the Nutcracker. Going to the theater and the arts have become a fun thing for us.

A song that starts with a cancer diagnosis sounds depressing.  Yet this one is inspiring.  Not because the person survives – we don’t know that outcome.  But we do know that they chose to live.  They chose to take advantage of every day they have on earth with people. 

As we start 2024, I renew my commitment to living in the moment.  To not having regrets.  To set my priorities and have them in line with my values.  To live like I am dying.

I hope you do too.

Change and the power of people

Posted on by Keith Dvorchik

Change isn’t easy.  It’s new, it’s different, and often comes with pain, either because it’s something we don’t want or because it’s something that hurts that forces us to see things differently and behave differently.  As we approach the new year, 2024, it’s a time many people make resolutions for the new year.  Things they will change.  A number of years ago I made the last one, and one I have kept ever since.  I vowed to stop making New Year’s Resolutions?

Why did I do that? Most of these are aspirational with no intent to actually make the changes.  The impetus is a date on the calendar, not a desire for real change, and as a result, they simply don’t work.  By not making any more new year’s resolutions, I empowered myself to make the changes in my life when they are needed rather than because it’s now January 1st of a new year.

As I look back at the past year, it gives me a chance to look at the changes I have made and the impact they have had and what I hope they will have as I move forward.

On September 6, 2022, my father died.  I have been lucky in my life to have wonderful relationships with my parents, and this was a transformative moment in my life.  My dad was who I went to for advice and guidance.  He was a role model.  With him no longer physically here, change was needed in my life.  I had to find others who could help provide the guidance that my dad offered for nearly 55 years.  My Uncle Marty, my close friends Todd and Ron.  People who I had long standing, trusted relationships went to a deeper level. 

I began to question what was really important in my life.  What mattered to me.  I made a commitment to increase the amount of time I spent with my family as time had become the most important thing in my life.  I wanted to improve my health, lose weight, and get better reports from my doctors.  None of this happened overnight, but it all happened because of the combination of the pain from the loss of my dad and the strong desire for something different.  I lost 55 pounds, my health improved, and my doctors were beyond thrilled, and I chose to invest more time with my family, taking advantage of what I could.  As my oldest son left the house this morning to return to Tennessee because they needed him back a week early, I was filled with gratitude for the time we did get to spend and look forward to the next opportunity.  Pain, something we all do our best to avoid, forced change, something we also tend to avoid, to improve my life, which all want but often aren’t willing to do the work to make happen.

I changed my career.  As somebody who spent 25 years working in the Jewish non-profit sector, it was something I enjoyed and something that was core to my identity.  I had thought of doing something else many times but never actually made it happen.  Fear?  Insecurity?  Uncertainty?  Change is often forced upon us and then we have the choice to rise to the challenge or not.  I’m excited about the new future and what it means.  I have more time with my family, more time to address improving my health and fitness.  Less stress.  When my mom said to me, “I was waiting to get the call that you had a heart attack.” it was a wake-up call.  It’s a new future ahead with things I cannot foresee and yet, I am more excited about it than I have been in a long while.  Change can be scary and exhilarating, uncertain and exciting.  How we choose to approach it, what our attitude is and what we are willing to often determine our success. 

October 7 was a sea change for me and many others.  As I watched the news unfold, as I communicated with friends and family in Israel via WhatsApp during the day, I was horrified, scared, angry, and stunned.  I’ll never forget the video of people murdered in their cars and they zoomed in on a minivan with the father, dead and slumped forward on the steering wheel while his young daughter, clinging to his back, was slumped dead against him.  It’s a horrifying image that is burned into my brain.  I saw the 47-minute Hamas video and those images are forever in my memory.  I have connections through friends to at least four hostages who thankfully have been returned to Israel.  October 7 was deeply personal in a way I never expected or wanted.

As somebody who was already a very public Jew due to my career, being more public wasn’t a real change.  But choosing to invest in being Jewish in my actions was something I could do.  I had begun learning with a Rabbi and have continued to do that weekly with a bigger zest and interest.  Sometimes I’ll even learn with 2 Rabbis in a week because it’s interesting to hear different perspectives.  My tefillin is out and gets used (not daily as some change comes slowly).  I don’t identify with any particular denomination any longer – I am a Jew and that’s enough.    I am not a jewelry person, yet I bought a new Mogen David (Star of David) from Israel that has the State of Israel as the center of the star and wear it proudly and visible when many others are feeling the need to keep theirs hidden due to safety concerns.  I have ordered some additional pieces from Israel, both for my own identity and to support Israeli artists.  The guy who hates jewelry is now wearing Jewish jewelry. 

I have always been somebody who felt that people were the most important thing in the world.  Throughout my life and my career, I have always invested in people.   I have some long term friends that I have known literally all my life to those who I’ve been friends with for 20 and 30 years.  My kids often joke about their ‘relatives’ that aren’t really related to them.  Alice and Jerry (z’l), Amy, Gabi, Karen, and their kids.   Uncle Aric and Aunt Carol.  My best friend Todd.  Ron and Sandy z’l (z’l).  It’s very common for them to not ask ‘how are we related?’ but ‘are we really related?’ when these names come up. 

I have people that I have worked with from 25 years ago that I still keep in touch with and are still friends.  These relationships are ones that I treasure (and those who worked with me or were students at UF when I was at Hillel or at Federation in Seattle or the JCC or Federation in Orlando know exactly what I mean and who you are.)  We still talk on a regular basis, sometimes out of the blue and sometimes every few weeks.  While not a change, my commitment to people has increased in the last year.  Investing in them.  Helping them.  Being their friend regardless of anything else.  October 7th reminded me just how precious those friendships are.  The messages on my birthday reminded me how precious those friendships are.  People reaching out after my dad died made me realize how incredibly luck and wealthy I am, not because of money or things, but because of people.  My career shift highlighted the people who reached out to talk and ask questions.  Here are just four examples from the past 5 days that highlight this (I could give many more):

  1. Thursday I spent an hour on a zoom with my friend Harriet. For the past 3 years or so we meet on zoom every week to talk about life, work, stress, family, and the just be friends. It started as part of a cohort and we just never stopped. It’s often the highlight of my week just for the personal connection.
  2. Friday I spent an hour on a zoom with my friend Shelley, catching up on life, talking about our families, our other friends, our careers, things we have considered doing, things we are doing, and just being together for the hour enjoying each others company.
  3. Monday I reached out to a number of friends to wish them a Merry Christmas.  One of them, Jamal, let me know that he is writing a book that will be published in 2024 and that he references me in the book and will share it with me before it’s published.  I was beyond humbled and overwhelmed by this.
  4. About a week ago, I messaged my friend Yaron, who is a leader in the IDF reserves that I know is on the front line in Gaza.  I didn’t expect a prompt reply, or maybe any reply, because of what he is tasked with doing.  Monday he replied, apologizing for the delay, which also humbled me.  He is currently the operations officer for the Gaza Division so you can imagine what he is living.  While he will never talk about it, I heard from other friends that on October 7th, he grabbed his gun and raced into the fight against the Hamas terrorists, helping defend Israelis by taking on the terrorists.  He thanked me for reaching out, for keeping him in my thoughts and that he mattered that much to me.  We messaged and began making plans to get together after the war, both when I am in Israel and when he is in the United States.  His heroism awes me. The fact that my message to him, asking about him and hoping he is ok and safe and that the war ends both successfully and soon, meant so much to him is proof of the power of people.

At the end of the day, change isn’t easy or fun, but is rewarding.  People are the key to change.  The relationships we build today can last a lifetime.  They help us get through change.  They help us get through the pain of things like losing a parent, a massacre on October 7th, dealing with a war where friends are on the front lines, and the challenges of daily life.  As we come to the close of 2023, I find myself most proud of three things.

  1. The relationship with my parents and my siblings.
  2. The relationship with my wife and children.
  3. The relationship with my friends, colleagues, and former students.

No amount of money can enter the top 3.  No amount of success can enter the top 3.  Nothing material truly matters until after those 3.  I’m humbled and grateful and look forward to a better 2024.