For so many years I felt all alone with my feelings. Sitting in balconies watching the services go on below as if I were a spectator at the event instead of part of it.

I listened to rabbis give their sermons and for the most part felt excluded. I remember in particular one time when the rabbi stood up in the pulpit and said: How can you tell who is a Jew?

And he answered: By bris milah and teffilin. My teenage daughter turned to me and said: I guess I’m not a Jew!

I had more awful experiences saying kaddish than positive ones.  But the positive ones showed me that little by little my Jewish world was changing. I also felt the change at my granddaughter’s bat mitzvah this year. I did not have one. For my eldest daughter I had to fight so hard that at one point I hung up the phone on the rabbi. My great-niece did a siyyum 9 years ago but was not allowed to say kaddish.

My granddaughter learned for almost 2 years, made a siyyum and said kaddish.

So little by little. With the help of JOFA and like-minded men and women we will move forward. And that gives me the chizuk to continue.