I’ve lost some little bits of me along the way.

And found some new parts to mend the gaps.

I’ve picked up some much needed clarity, stitched over patches of lost sanity

And quilted a new mindfulness.

I’ve collected stories and bound them into mental albums.

Picture books of heroes and angels.

And loved ones.

I’ve lost time

And found a new calendar

I’ve embraced my most

extroverted-introverted self.

I’ve crawled into my cave

Curled up

And cried.

I’ve laughed too

And cuddled

And found that movie marathons with your 12 year-old can steady your heart.

I’ve inhaled books like pure oxygen

Drank their stories from a tall cool glass.

Baked too many cookies to count

And enjoyed every single, therapeutic bite.

I’ve found my lost self in the perfumed gardens that bloom wild and free

On my daily walks

Where the neon flowers, fragrant and sweet remind me

to literally

stop

and smell the roses.

I’ve Zoom yoga-d in my pj’s

In my bedroom

Next to the mountain of laundry taunting me.

I have found salvation

from the healing balm of truest friendships and sisterhoods

And fallen over and over again

into the safety net of my other half

I’ve gone on coffee dates with my sister

Through the gift of modern technology

Both of us together

But miles apart

I’ve discovered that TikTok with your 15-year -old is the new age Golden Ticket.

And re-discovered how much unconditional love and free therapy

a dog can give.

I’ve sent my kids back to school.

And walked a new tightrope of panic and ambivalence

I have ached to hold my new baby niece

Inhale her new baby scent

And wrap my arms around my parents and my father-in-law

And not let go.

I’ve lost some sense of security

Reclaimed it.

Then lost it again,

I know it is waiting for me

On the ink-kissed pages of ancient text

And in the multitude of daily miracles.

I have seen the faint flutter of hope

From bell curves, graphs and charts

The same hope that surfs on a sunbeam through my bedroom window

Sent up from the prayer groups that gather daily below

Right behind my blooming mango tree

Where the park swings sway in the soft summer breeze

Dreaming of the familiar song that is childhood

and aching for the touch of tiny fingerprints.

I am masked in uncertainty and in my faith

I am both

Lost and found.

I am ever so grateful.

Esti Rosen Snukal made aliya from Teaneck NJ and lives in Chashmonaim with her husband, four sons, and adorable puppy. Esti is a contributor for the Jewish Link and a long time advocate for lone soldiers.

Esti can be reached at [email protected]. Follow Esti on Facebook or on Instagram @ esti1818