Dear all,
Six years ago —September 3, 2019—I boarded an early morning flight from Los Angeles to the Bay Area. I rented a car, drove through quiet streets, and made my way toward the small town where our extraordinary surrogate lived.
Though her due date was still weeks away, Ron and I had learned the day before that the babies were ready. Not soon. Not someday. NOW. And I had to get her down to LA ASAP!
As I neared her town, I slowed at a railway crossing. The tracks stretched endlessly before me, disappearing into the horizon.
I was excited.
I was nervous.
I was giddy.
I was scared.
I was hopeful.
I was anxious.
In that moment in time, it was as though every emotion I had ever known—or perhaps never known until can co-exist in a single nanosecond of life.
I crossed the tracks and continued down the road, parallel to the rails.
Fast-forward: the next morning, in Los Angeles, Maya and Eli entered the world. And today, as we celebrate their sixth birthday, I’m reminded that our journey is still unfolding.
Yes, it’s into the unknown.
But it’s also into a world overflowing with love, wonder, and discovery.
We all face crossings in our lives. Our ancestors did it when they crossed the desert toward Israel. And we do it in our own day as well. Some crossings cause us to pause, to wonder if we are ready, if we can bear the weight of what lies ahead. But it is only when we move forward—step by step, heartbeat by heartbeat—that our dreams are born and our lives are made whole.
With love and shalom,
Rabbi Zach Shapiro
