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I have been thinking a lot about something that many of us\\u2014not all, but many\\u2014have in common: brothers and sisters.\\xa0 I have been in a deep brother and sister place this week for two reasons.

I am the youngest of six children.\\xa0 My five older siblings live in different places. Two live in Los Angeles, one in New Jersey, one in Denver, and my sister Jill and I live in Newton.\\xa0 This past Monday night, for a brief, incredibly sweet, totally-to-be-cherished nano second, we were all in the same place together, Brooklyn, for the wedding of Jill and Steve\\u2019s son Ari to his wife Esther.\\xa0 Between geographical challenges, health challenges, Covid, and life, the six of us don\\u2019t get a chance to see one another altogether in the same place nearly as much as we would like.\\xa0 The last time all six of us were together was at another nephew\\u2019s wedding in Denver before the pandemic.\\xa0 So it felt incredibly special, and rare.

And, just as we were dancing at Ari and Esther\\u2019s wedding, my brothers on Shira\\u2019s side of the family, Ari in Jerusalem, Daniel in Atlanta, and I were concluding saying Kaddish for our father after the 11 months.\\xa0 Every morning, and every evening, in Jerusalem, Atlanta, and Temple Emanuel, we said Kaddish for our father, and it was deeply meaningful that we were doing so together in our respective cities.\\xa0 This past Tuesday we said our last Kaddish. \\xa0

Sharing the wedding and the Kaddish with brothers and sisters made me think about the special blessing, and special challenge, of brothers and sisters. A deep paradox lies at the heart of the sibling relationship.