Hanukkah snuck up on me this year. I wasn’t prepared for it to start so early and there was even a very tiny discussion about skipping it. The menorah never makes it into a designated place at the end of the season. Instead, I manage to place it somewhere near the Christmas decorations in the basement. One year, I lost it all together and had to buy a new one. It was a year when we travelled around Oklahoma and because it was still Hanukkah, we took the menorah with us to light each evening. I have a feeling that menorah got lost somewhere between Oklahoma City and Tulsa.

On Saturday, I bought a new pack of candles and then went to the basement in search of our menorah. After digging through two boxes of Christmas stuff, I triumphantly emerged with our menorah and set it in its usual spot on the bookcase. I guess somewhere between the discussion of not participating in Hanukkah and getting things ready for Thanksgiving, I made the decision to put in the effort for Hanukkah. On the first night, as Michael lit the candles, I recited the prayers and just like I do every year, I got choked up on the last prayer.

Blessed are You, Lord our G‑d, King of the universe, who has granted us life, sustained us, and enabled us to reach this occasion.

It is easy to forget throughout the year the importance of taking the tiniest of moments to acknowledge and be grateful for just surviving the day. Despite all the odds, you are still alive and breathing. Each night as we light the menorah candles and recite the prayers, I feel more and more grounded in the moment. As I mindfully say each word of the prayer, I feel a weight lift from my body and I savor the moment of peace that settles into the place of that lifted weight.

This year has not been an easy one, emotionally or physically. This has been true for many of us, but we are here. We are living and we are surviving. No matter how one chooses to do so, all of that is worth celebrating.