Tag: possessions

Fire, loss, and gratitude

Posted on by Keith Dvorchik

The wildfires in California are devastating. People are losing their homes and their valuables. Some are losing their lives. I live in Florida, far from California. There is no threat of those fires expanding to my community, yet I truly understand what that loss feels like.

In 2013, my family and I were preparing to move from Gainesville, FL to Seattle, WA as I had been recruited and hired to be the new President and CEO of the Jewish Federation of Greater Seattle. It was a big move with lots of nerves, fear, and concern for all of us. We were literally moving completely across the country. My wife and kids had never not lived close to family and now we were moving nearly 3,000 miles away.

This was a big new job in a new community for me. Alison, my wife, had one friend who lived there and my kids knew nobody. It was exciting and scary at the same time. We packed up our house, the movers took our belongings away, and we moved into my in-laws house for a few days. I was leaving a few days before my family to get things set up, move into our rental home, pick up our dog at the airport and then get the family a few days later. Everything was set up for this big change in our lives.

As I prepared to head to the airport in a rental car (our cars had been shipped already), my phone rang. It was the moving company. They told me that there had been a fire in our moving truck and it was a complete loss. Everything we owned that was on that truck was lost. My face dropped. I didn’t know what to do. For a minute I thought I was being pranked, I hoped and prayed I was being pranked, but I wasn’t. I told Alison and she was stunned. How do you comprehend losing all your belongings like that. Your memories. Your photos as a child, with your grandparents, your children as babies, your ketubah (marriage certificate) and so much more.

I headed to the airport in shock, talking to Alison on the phone the entire time. I called Delta, told them what happened, and they changed my flight to a day later. I called my new board chair and shared the news with her. She was shocked. Using humor to deflect my feelings, I said to her, “Well, at least we don’t have to unpack.”

When I got back to my in-laws house, we spoke to the moving company again and they said we could come to the facility in Jacksonville where the truck was and salvage anything that we wanted. Still in shock, Alison and I drove to Jacksonville, depressed at what we were going to see.

When we arrived, they told us what happened. The truck hadn’t left the yard yet. There was an issue with the truck that needed to be fixed before they could send it to Seattle. The way to fix it involved using a blowtorch. Their standard operating procedure is to removed everything from the truck, then use the blowtorch to fix it, and then reload the truck. The person who was fixing it decided he didn’t want to do that and just tried to fix it with all our belonging still on the truck. Something caught fire, the truck went up in flames, they rushed to put it out, but the fire, smoke, and water ruined our belongings. Later, I reached out to a few attornies about a lawsuit since they didn’t follow their procedures and I learned that they are only liable for the loss. Not for anything else. I learned that sentimental things have no value other than replacement of them. Things that were handed down from my grandfathers would be worth pennies because they were old things that could easily replaced. A lesson learned.

We were both fuming as we walked to the area where the truck and our belongings were. You could smell the smoke well before we got there. The sight was devastating. Boxes were charred and wet. Furniture burned. We slowly approached the area, tears in our eyes, and began to go through the boxes.

Then something amazing happened. We opened a wet and charred box and found our ketubah in it, in perfect condition. We opened another wet and charred box and found our wedding album along with other picture albums from our childhoods. We found our children’s professional pictures when they were 4 and 2 perfectly safe. We looked around as our furniture, clothes, and everything that could be replaced with money was damaged and lost and realized that things that really mattered to us were not. The collage from our wedding reception was fine. My autographed sports memorabilia that I got personally, signed to me, was fine. The things my grandfather and Alison’s grandfather did special for us, were fine. My grandfather had the newspapers from the 4 days leading up to Nixon’s resignation and the day that FDR died. They mean the world to me because they connect me to him, long after he died. They were all fine. Our hearts warmed quickly and were filled with gratitude. Yes, we lost all our material possessions and would have to get everything new. Yet the things that truly mattered to us, the things that were irreplaceable, were saved.

This was my proof that God exists. There was no reason for these things to be saved. They weren’t in a part of the truck that wasn’t burned. Our ketubah and Alison’s bridal portrait were in boxes that were behind the couch that burned up. The things that mattered the most were mixed with everything that was a complete loss. There was no reason for them to be saved and in great condition other than God.

As we see what is happening in Calfornia with the fire and loss of homes, I think back to when we lost everything we owned. When people reached out, wanting to donate money to help us, we declined. Why did we decline? We had insurance on our items and they could be replaced. We thought we had enough insurance but eventually learned that replacing EVERYTHING you own is much more expensive than you think. We told people that most importantly, nobody was hurt. We still had a place to live and material things are not important compared to being healthy.

I feel for the people who have lost their homes and their possessions. I have been there with the possessions and was grateful it was just possessions and not my house. I was lucky that the things that couldn’t be replaced were saved. The people in California don’t have that luck. Houses and possessions can be replaced. It will be an inconvenience. It will be frustrating. It’s not something anybody would want to go through. For those who lost their lives, they can’t be replaced. For those who lost their material possessions, all that can, and will, be replaced.

After losing our material possessions in 2013, I found myself grateful. Grateful that we were safe and it was just things. Grateful we had insurance, which covered about 85% of the cost of replacing everything. I was incredibly grateful that the things that couldn’t be replaced were saved. It reminded me of my priorities. It reminded me that material things are just that – things. We may like them and enjoy them, but they are just things. There are many things far more important.

I hope that those going through this awful time of loss, of devastation, and in a time when they are in shock, the same way I was in shock after hearing the news, come to the same realization. Their homes will be rebuilt. They will buy new clothes and new furniture. They can buy new art for the walls, new rugs for the floors, new towels and sheets, and appliances. There are many things that are irreplaceable. Possessions are not among them.

I found great comfort in this realization. I hope those dealing with it in California find the same comfort. Having lost all my possessions in 2013, I know what is really important. I would gladly go through it all over again to ensure my health and the health of my loved ones. Possessions are temporary and unimportant. Our lives and the lives of our loved ones are what matters. Health and happiness. Let the pain those in California are going through be a lesson to us all about what really matters in life. I know it’s a reminder for me.

Me walking through the fire damage of our belongings
Inside the moving van where the fire occurred.

The trading of time

Posted on by Keith Dvorchik

I’m here in Israel for two weeks with a group of young adults on a leadership program.  The Jewish Leadership Institute (JLI) was created by Rabbi Mayer Abramowitz more than 30 years ago.  He was a visionary.  He understood in the early 1990s that the future was on the college campus and that providing answers to the WHY of Judaism was critical to developing Jewish leaders.  I was introduced to the program in 1998 and have been a fan ever since.  Now I get to work with my friend David, Rabbi Abramowitz’s son, on JLI and the future of JLI.

While the focus of the trip is on the young adults, it is impossible not to be inspired by both them and the content.  I find myself thinking deeply throughout the different experiences and while I am not the intended target of the program (nor are you) the impact is felt.

Yesterday we had an amazing tour guide, Eytan Rund, take us on a tour of the Old City of Jerusalem.  I’ve been on many tours of the Old City.  Too many to count.  I love the Old City.  Last month, our guide gave a totally different view of the Old City that I wrote about.  Eytan spent two hours with us giving one of the most amazing tours I have ever experienced of the Old City. 

Eytan’s focus was on the difference between seeing old stuff and seeing stories, history, and memory.  The Old City was his muse to talk about peoplehood.  To talk about the Jewish collective.  To talk about what being Jewish means – being part of a mishpacha, a family, that is thousands of years old.  As we looked down into the ruins of Jerusalem from the time of the first Temple, he explained this was this built 3,000 years ago by Jews.  Well before Christianity.  Well before Islam. This is our homeland that we built.  He talked about how after the destruction of the first Temple, Jerusalem was filled in with sand to make an entirely new ground, well above the prior city.  It is always amazing to look at the areas from the time of the first Temple however this was different.  He tied it to us.  We built the first Jerusalem.  We built the second Jerusalem.  And we built the current Jerusalem.  It was powerful.

As we walked through the Old City, he focused on 1948 and the battle for the Old City as well as the battles with the Assyrians, Persians, and Romans.  The stories were vivid.  They were personal.  On my trip last month, Saul Blinken, our trip leader, talked about what a miracle it is that we get to wake up in Jerusalem.  We walk the streets of Jerusalem.  We breathe the air of Jerusalem.  That was incredibly impactful for me.  I am fulfilling the dreams of my ancestors from 2,000 years ago and I can never forget that.  Eytan reiterated that in his own way.  The modern state of Israel is truly a miracle that our ancestors who were conquered by the Romans could never imagine. 

It made me think of a story that my friend Harry Rothenberg told me a few years ago as we were climbing Masada.  I challenged him to do some on the spot Torah teaching about climbing a mountain.  He said that when God told Moses he would not be permitted to enter the land of Israel, Moses begged God thousands of times to be allowed to enter.  God refused every time.  God finally told Moses that if he climbed this mountain, he would be able to look into Israel and see the entire land.  Moses climbed the mountain, saw the land, and his love for the land he saw but could not entered is a part of all of us.  That is why we love Israel.  It’s a great teaching about how our love for this land goes back thousands of years.  It’s not since 1948.  It’s not since the late 1800s and Theodore Herzl and the creation of modern Zionism.  It goes back to Abraham.  To Moses.  To King David and King Solomon.  It is a part of who we are. 

One of the things I love about JLI is our morning services.  As somebody who does not like services, that is an interesting statement to make.  The reason I enjoy these services so much is because they focus on the WHY not the WHAT.  As we continued to discuss the prayers about thanking God for restoring our soul and for the rooster knowing the difference between day and night, we talked about time.  Previously I wrote about how Judaism marks the passage of time, so we don’t lose our focus.  Today we talked about how we are always trading time.

It is a fascinating concept that most people don’t really think about until they are older.  That is when we begin to realize that time is our most precious commodity.  We can always make more money, get a new car, a new house, new clothes, TVs, computers, etc.  What we can never get back is time.  Life is about the value of time and what we are willing to trade time for.

For many years, I was willing to trade time for money.  For career.  For ego and for title.  For status.  For the nicer house and the better car.  I wouldn’t trade time with my children – I took them to doctors appointments, went to their sporting events and music performances. I specifically remember having a small counseing practice and when I did the analysis of what insurance was paying me, realized that I would rather have dinner with my family than make money. Until I got a bigger job.

The bigger job, for some reason, changed the equation. I began to trade time more freely. I didn’t realize that’s what I was doing. I knew I didn’t like it but I continued to do it. After a few years, I realized that among many things, I wasn’t willing to trade that time for the money, title, and prestige of that job. So I left. My new job was still demanding but not in the same way. The trading of time was different. Perhaps it was because my children were a little older.

The question to ask ourselves is what is each experience worth? What would I trade it for? As one of our teachers here in Israel asked, ‘Would you trade your elbow for a million dollars? How about both elbows for ten million dollars?’ Over the past almost year, my equation for trading time has changed. I am eternally grateful for the last three weeks of my father’s life when I was able to be there for him and my mom. It is time I can never get back and I’m glad I didn’t trade that time for money, prestige, power, or anything else. I am not willing to trade time with my children the way I used to be. I won’t trade the time with my wife the way I used to be. My job today requires travel and it is not always balanced (July is a month of almost entire travel) but I built in time for a trip with my wife.

As we evaluate our lives, time is the ultimate measuring stick. Not money. Not titles. Not power nor prestige. At the end of the day, it is the time I spent with my family, with my wife, my children, my parents, that matter the most. It’s a lesson I continue to learn and I’m far from where I want to be with my willingness to trade time but I am much better than I was just a year ago.

Maybe this comes with age. Maybe it comes with losing a parent. I’m excited to take trips this fall to watch my older son coach college football. Sure it’s a 10 hour drive each way but who cares. It is likely either my wife or younger son or both will be in the car with me. Plus I get to watch him do what he loves. I’m excited to take trips with my younger son to sporting events, concerts, and other things. I look forward to planning the things my wife and I will do together and when not traveling for work, the time we just spend together as I get to work from my home office those days.

Life is far too short to give away our most valuable possession. Time.

How do you value your time? What are you willing to trade for time with your spouse, your children, your parents, your friends? Once you trade that time away, you can never get it back.