Bryan Schwartzman: From my home studio, welcome to Evolve: Groundbreaking Jewish Conversations. Myra Sack: What it sometimes feels like is like damn, I wish there were so much more of her story to tell. I hate that the number of memories, that the nature of the story is what it is. Bryan Schwartzman: I'm your host Bryan Schwartzman, and today I'm speaking with grief coach and author Myra Sack. We'll be discussing her evolve essay, Rituals of Grief and her memoir Fifty-seven Fridays: Losing Our Daughter, Finding Our Way. On January 20th 2021, Myra and her husband Matt, lost their two-year-old daughter Havi to complications from Tay-Sachs disease. In this episode, we'll talk about the tragic medical error or error in genetic testing that led to this diagnosis and how the couple and their two younger children continue to honor Havi. And we'll also talk about the work Myra has done to build grief literacy and to support others through loss. I had a chance to interview Myra earlier in 2024 when her book was first released and was honored to have the chance to speak with her again for this episode. We cover a lot in this interview. If you appreciate the substance and depth and emotional intensity of our episodes, consider leaving a five-star rating or review on Apple Podcasts or wherever you get your podcasts. Ratings and reviews really do help people find out about our show. All right, so let's get to our guest. Myra Sack is the author of Fifty-seven Fridays: Losing Our Daughter, Finding Our Way, and Founder of E-Motion, a nonprofit created to support community movement and ritual to enhance coping and resilience. Myra has led athletics-based youth development nonprofits. She was a college soccer standout at Dartmouth where she was a first-team all-IV midfielder and second-team, all-Senior, all-American. Myra Sack, welcome to the podcast. It's good to see you again. Myra Sack: It's an honor. Bryan, thank you for having me. Bryan Schwartzman: We were saying just before we hit record that December, it can be a bleak time of year. Just wondering how you and your family are doing. Myra Sack: Thanks. Yeah, I'm speaking to you from Boston. So yeah, December has some gray and rawness and then for us it's a time of some painful reminders and of some sacred dates that I know we'll talk about. And it's a time of like kind of wintering from Katherine May's book, so a time of kind of turning inward and having a fire on. And so that's sort of the space I'm in. Bryan Schwartzman: So for listeners who may not be familiar with your story or read some of your work, can you tell us a little bit about Havi? Myra Sack: Havi is my first daughter. She was born two years to the day of my husband Matt, and my wedding anniversary. She was born September 4th, 2018. And Matt and I are both Ashkenazi Jewish. And so before Havi was even an idea, we had both pursued preconception genetic testing after my test results came back that I was a carrier for Tay-Sachs disease, which for anyone who's familiar, sort of knows that in Hebrew school really when I was growing up, we learned about the devastating reality of that disease. And also we were so grateful that generations prior had sort of paved the way for all of this genetic testing to be possible so that no child and no Jewish child was ever born with Tay-Sachs disease. And so Matt and I sort of being type A and good students, of course pursued our genetic testing. And I was reported as a carrier. Matt was reported as not a carrier, which meant that we were in the clear to try to start a family because Tay-Sachs is an autosomal recessive disorder, which means that both parents have to be carriers for the fetus to have a 25% risk of inheriting the disease. So we got pregnant and had a beautiful first year of life with Havi. We were new parents, first time parents and Havi was strong and had big eyes and beautiful blonde hair and had sort of an energy and a presence that was warm and she loved blueberries and she loved being by the ocean and loved to laugh and didn't love to sleep. So we were also exhausted. And then at about a year at Havi's first year pediatrician appointment, we received a developmental delay diagnosis. Havi wasn't meeting the milestones that her other peers were hitting, and so we were referred to early intervention and started her in on all the things, physical therapy, occupational therapy, speech language. And that was really the beginning of what was a diagnostic odyssey, about a three-month diagnostic odyssey that ended December 17th, 2019. So five years ago just this week,- Bryan Schwartzman: Oh, wow. Myra Sack: Where we got the devastating news that Havi did have Tay-Sachs disease. And what we later learned was that a physician ordering error had been made and Matt's carrier screening was misreported and he was in fact a carrier. And so we in that moment learned that Havi had about a year or so to live, and in that time she'd sort of lose everything. And that moment, that kind of apocalyptic moment theologian Kate Bowler refers to apocalyptic as she talks about the Greek root meaning to expose or reveal or lay bare. And so it was really in that fully exposed state that we were facing this threshold moment that we had never experienced in our lifetime. How do we watch our daughter die and how do we do it in a way that honors her life? And that is now sort of everything that I do and write about and think about is kind of grounded in that moment. Bryan Schwartzman: And one of your responses, which had some roots in your Jewish upbringing was this idea of the Shabbirthday. Can you tell us what that, well first how you and Matt came up with that idea and what it was and how it helped you honor Havi? Myra Sack: As Havi's mom and as her parents, neither one of us could wrap our head or heart around the fact that she'd only have two birthdays on this earth. That just didn't make any sense to us. And so we had both grown up and continued to honor Shabbat every Friday. And so in this kind of a apocalyptic moment, this idea started to come to us of, well, we have Shabbat every Friday, could we turn it into her birthday too? And sort of find ways to honor and celebrate her without pretending the pain away and we could feature her favorite foods and invite her people and sing and dance and hold both sort of joy and pain at the same time. And as we were turning that idea over, Matt said to me, "We could call it a Shabbirthday, like a combination of Shabbat and birthday." And we ended up having 57 of these Shabbirthdays, which really was how we lived. We lived from one Shabbirthday to the next for those 57 weeks, and they revealed a whole host of elements of our humanity that we continue to draw on today. But really it's this, which you all know so well, like that ritual as Suki Miller says, is the antidote to helplessness. And for us Shabbirthdays, that ritual became our lifeline. Bryan Schwartzman: I recall early on you and Matt had a meeting with a well-meaning rabbi in the Boston area who gave advice, I guess you didn't find particularly helpful, that taking this path would make Shabbat and Fridays sort of painful for going forward after Havi's gone. And I'm wondering what Friday nights are like for you and your family now? Myra Sack: That moment that Bryan's describing was when a few days after we came up with this idea, we went to see a rabbi and we told her all about Havi and our family and what we were facing. And then we told her with a little bit of kind of pride in our voice that we had come up with this idea of Shabbirthdays. She looked at us and said, "I don't think that's a good idea because it's going to be too painful for you to exist on Shabbat after Havi dies if you transform them in this way." And I think she was totally well-meaning. And also what this moment revealed to us was that she was afraid like so many of us are that we respond to these moments of tragedy and loss with these fear-based responses. We can't possibly get any closer to the pain, like that wouldn't serve us. We should distance ourselves. And for us, that didn't feel right and fortunately we kind of had the conviction to move ahead with them anyway. And now we honor Shabbirthdays every Friday and have for years. We're coming up on what is shockingly going to be the fourth anniversary of her death this January. And so we've had hundreds of Shabbats without Havi here and she has two living siblings and they are ways that every week anchor us in the reality that our family, our whole family can't be seen or touched, that we miss her. That there is also a tremendous amount of love and beauty in our lives and so much gratitude. And of course the Shabbirthdays feel different with Kaia and Ezra, Havi's sister and brother and without Havi, but they also feel so sacred. And Kaia lights the Shabbat candles every Friday and then Ezra blows them out immediately. He's two and doesn't really appreciate that they should continue to stay lit. And we have a whole bunch of traditions that we still honor that are truly life sustaining today. Bryan Schwartzman: I mean, I'm no therapist, but this has to be so much healthier than having this void that's never talked about. And having your younger children grow up with this absence that's never addressed. I mean, I guess I'm not asking you to go into your child-rearing, but or maybe I am. Myra Sack: No, I think that what you're kind of getting at is this avoidant behavior, which we all go to at times of tremendous stress and fear and pain actually takes a lot more energy than learning to integrate. And that energy that's exerted takes a tremendous toll on us when we exist in that sort of state of being that is avoidant. That void that you were talking about, Bryan, that energy that we're exerting is looking for places to get stored because we're resisting the energy and it often gets stored in the form of aches and illness and other sort of psychological or physiological impacts of kind of not turning towards and moving with and integrating what is hard and heavy and also beautiful. Bryan Schwartzman: So the excerpt from your book that was published on the Evolve website focuses on or tells some of the story of the first week after Havi's death. We know that that first week is sort of a set apart time in Jewish tradition, and I'm wondering why that felt such like a crucial time for you and your family and how you approached it. Because my sense is you're both drawing on Jewish tradition and creating rituals that work for you. Myra Sack: That first week and really weeks after she died, but that first week in particular I think is important because we're closest to that liminal space where we have one foot in the land of the living and one in the land of the dead. And if we pay really close attention in that space, we can draw on such powerful spiritual energy and connection that starts to get farther away. As much as I hate to admit it is now so much harder to recall Havi's physical being, to put myself in places and spaces where I can really remember what it feels like to touch her cheek, to have her arms around my neck. And that physical touch is so much a part of how we as humans on this earth sort of give and show and receive love. And so I think that first week sort of post-death was a moment where we wanted to hold so close and pay such close attention to this space that we were in that we knew we would never get again, which was such access to how thin I think the veil is when we pay attention. And so we chose to spend time in her room to go over as many photographs as we could, to use music as kind of a meditative mediator for us that would help us draw on so many of those powerful and yet now almost out of reach connections to her physical being. And it's a time where as painful as it was, it's like a time that I wish more than anything I could go back to because there was so much texture and depth there. Bryan Schwartzman: I understand that a Reconstructionist-trained Rabbi Shelly Barnathan really helped your family through this period. I mean, I was wondering if you could share anything about how working with a rabbi helped think of how to process or mark this time. Myra Sack: Rabbi Shelly is incredible. I mean, the first thing that she did and continues to do as I think about it, I just received an email from her a few days ago about honoring Havi, was she embraced our concept of Shabbirthday so wholeheartedly. And when we reached out to her and told her we wanted to do a bat mitzvah for Hav on her 13th Shabbirthday, Rabbi Shelly like put together a service for us that it was Covid at this time. And so it was all, she sent everything kind of via email and it was in a virtual space, but she honored Havi's life and she honored the way in which we were trying to mark time with Hav. And we knew that Havi's 13th Shabbirthday was nowhere close to her actual bat mitzvah. We weren't sort of fooling ourselves, but because she jumped in with us and she brought elements of Judaism and prayer and Talmud into that space, now we have so much to go back to that at least gives us this appreciation that Havi's life matters in Judaism. And that her 13th Shabbirthday day was just another way to kind of mark that her life mattered, that her life's arc, even though it was so much shorter than others or that it should have been, that it mattered and that it was full. So that was kind of our first really, really meaningful connection with Rabbi Shelly in Havi's life's arc. And then after Havi died, Rabbi Shelly was the person who I turned to in Judaism to sort of walk with me during that first year of life without Hav. And what that looked like was Zoom calls that felt like prayer sessions that involved singing and sort of analyzing blessings. And Rabbi Shelly would bring in different poetry and it was just this meditative space where she would pull out what I was thinking and feeling and make connections to Judaism that made me feel like I was a part of something greater, that of course there are so many others before us who had experienced and have experienced tragedy and that we could call on our religion as a companion. And those sessions were so rejuvenating and they really, I wouldn't say restored because I don't think I ever lost faith in Judaism, but they certainly enhanced my faith in Reconstructionist Judaism's capacity to make really important adaptations to what it means to help someone on their healing journey. Bryan Schwartzman: Quick timeout from my conversation with Myra. Have you been moved by this conversation, found a new perspective on the Evolve website, deepened your Jewish practice with a resource from Ritual Well, has your life been impacted by a Reconstructionist rabbi or community? Consider making a gift to Reconstructing Judaism. We bring you this podcast and so much more. We partner with people to envision the kind of Jewish communities we all want to be part of and set out to build them together. You can find a donate link right in our show notes or click support us at evolve.reconstructingjudeism.org. Okay. Now back to my interview with Myra Sack. This next question, I am sure I'm not the first person to ask you. I mean, genetic screening is fairly routine now, and this was a huge error. How did you deal with anger? Did you actually consider a lawsuit and have you gotten anywhere close to forgiveness? That's a big question, but. Myra Sack: It's such a good question. Genetic testing unfortunately is still not as routine as it should be in this country. And Matt now has turned fully towards preventative genetic testing, both in the reproductive space and the hereditary cancer screening. He now is the CEO for JScreen, which is an organization that is primarily focused on the Jewish population and ensuring that everyone gets tested because you're right, it should be routine. It's just woefully kind of underutilized and misunderstood, at least in the healthcare system. And as far as the error that was made, it was a tragic human error. And Matt comes from the medical system. He was an MD PhD and what brought us to Boston was his training in internal medicine, and that's actually ended up being sort of where the mistake was made. So as it relates to anger, I think Matt holds a lot of a combination of so many complicated feelings around anger and guilt and that we are still kind of moving with and unpacking and that we need to pay attention to as they sort of resurface. For me in some ways because the error was so obvious and so tragic, there is nothing unknown about what happened. And for whatever reason that helps me. I'm not trying to figure out what went wrong. I know exactly what went wrong. And while that is devastating and that's an understatement, there's no questions. And I think my anger is broader than that. When I'm not taking good care of myself, that sort of anger can be one of the leading emotions, which is more about, anger about a life that we should have had that we don't, about all the future losses that come after a death, all of the things that will be missed, the fact that our family will forever be sort of broken, that Kaia and Ezra won't ever know what it's like to live with an older sister. So I think that exists more globally for me. And when I pay attention to it, what I notice is that it's not really anger, it's mostly just deep anguish and yearning, like just missing her and wanting her. The lawsuit, we did pursue a lawsuit, which ultimately ended in a settlement that was related to fixing this error in the system that it was made, in the medical system, that it was made so that it would never happen to another family. And there's now a lecture series that we gave, and that error can never be made again. And so that feels meaningful. It felt important for us to take action because it was a way to parent Havi and it doesn't come close. So in some ways it feels meaningful and in other ways it's totally nothing because it obviously does nothing to bring her back. Bryan Schwartzman: It seems like you've taken so much of what you've learned and experienced and are trying to use that to help others confront grief. And I'm wondering if you can tell us a little bit about some of the work you're doing in that area. Myra Sack: The first thing that I did, that really we did was write, and that I don't think we appreciated how therapeutic writing would be, but then writing became this book that is now Fifty-seven Fridays, and of course it's the story of Havi's life that we wanted to share, but more importantly, we ended up wanting to write and publish a book because we felt like on some level, while what happened to us might not be unique in that lots of us devastatingly experienced tragedy, but the way our community showed up, the way we embraced Ritual, the way we learned about grief from sort of a psychoeducation lens felt like it could be of service to others. It could be a companion for others, not just those of us who lose children, but those of us who are trying to exist with loss every day. And so some of our time, Matt and my time is spent doing book talks and finding spaces in places and organizations for whom the book could be meaningful. And then the second thing is that I started an organization called E-motion. And E-motion is a non-profit organization that draws on sort of the three healing elements that were essential for us, which was movement, community, and ritual. And it draws on those three elements. And in one part of the organization, we run programming for grieving people directly. And that takes the form of a movement community as they're called right now, which is an opportunity for people who have experienced life disrupting loss to kind of follow this gently guided grief curricula that also integrates in-person sessions with other grievers. And all those sessions are done with movement as kind of the foundational principle. So some of those groups walk, some run, some swim, some hike. And what I am trying to do with movement communities is ensure that at least one city in every state in this country, there is a place where people feel like they can be seen, where they can move, not just sit in a circle and talk about their grief experience, but they can walk alongside someone or jog alongside someone, and that they can do that in everyday spaces. So our groups meet in running stores, in YMCAs, and that's because we think that grieving people deserve to hold space that is not just sidelining them to, I don't know, kind of closed dark rooms to talk about hard things. So that's one element of the organization. And the people who lead those groups are facilitators who we train in the model, and they do not have to be clinicians. They can be people with lived experience who kind of meet the criteria for leading one of these communities. And then the second part of the organization is focused on training. So that's more like basic grief literacy and education training for organizations or companies or teams who just want to learn a different language. They want to learn what to say, they want to understand grief a little bit better. And so we lead sort of think grief 101 for a lot of different kinds of places who are looking to do better. And that feels like sort of the, and this is so Jewish, like that turning pain into some semblance of service for others is really the only way to hold it, to be able to hold such immense pain. So that's what I try to do every day. Bryan Schwartzman: You mentioned it. What is grief literacy? How would you define it? Myra Sack: Grief literacy is sort of multifactorial. I think first, it's understanding how prevalent grief is and looking at some statistics to appreciate that every one of us will or has experienced grief. And then it's really looking at, despite the prevalence of grief, we have woefully inadequate policies to support grieving people at all levels at the federal level, at the state level, with the exception of five states who have meaningful bereavement leave, and at the community level, that we don't resource up kind of community-based organizations who are focused on grief, at least not yet. So it's one part understanding the prevalence, part two, appreciating that we don't really have the policies in place to support grieving people. And then part three is what is some psychoeducation around grief that could be helpful? So how do we define it? What are some helpful frameworks for thinking about how to enhance our own coping and how to show up for others? And then some opportunities to just reflect on the ways in which maybe our own fears are preventing us from kind of fully inhabiting grief in a way that could be healthier, like we kind of talked about earlier. Bryan Schwartzman: I've certainly heard terms grief and loss used in more expansive ways in recent years, is maybe there's a little more awareness about what grief is. And I've heard it even like I'm grieving the loss of a relationship or I mean, certainly folks in my circles, I heard a lot of, I'm grieving the results of the election. I mean, does that sound healthy to talk about things other than the loss of a loved one in that way? Or does it just seem odd to use the same word to describe maybe what somebody suffering a traumatic loss went through and somebody who went through something that's more everyday experience? Myra Sack: It's such a good question, Bryan. I spent a lot of time thinking and talking about this, and I'm not sure I know entirely, but where I fall is there has to be some balance between appreciating that, getting into what we call at E-motion like the loss Olympics, sort of comparing losses isn't so healthy because if you win the loss Olympics, your loss is bigger, more immense than any loss in the history of humanity. And that's a really painful place to be and a lonely place to be. And if you lose the loss Olympics, you then are sort of left feeling like you don't have a right to your loss because it's not as big or immense or deep or tragic. And so on one level kind of acknowledging that loss is everywhere, and that if we define grief as sort of the human process of moving with loss, I think there is an element that is very healthy about that and that sort of centering loss in the emotional and mental health crisis and seeing loss as a really important element of how we learn to build mental and emotional health, that learning to move with loss and understand it and appreciate its intensity is so much a part of mental health. So that on the one hand, I really deeply believe, and it's actually one of our values at E-motion. I do think that it is also important to appreciate that traumatic loss is different and that traumatic loss, and there are different definitions in the space in psychiatry, psychology, counseling, but that traumatic loss is untimely and that it is anachronistic, that it is sometimes violent, and those traumatic losses oftentimes require more different support. And I think that that differentiation is important because without it, we might underestimate just how much support, just how much community matters in the case of traumatic loss and how life-changing it can be when people and communities come together and say, whoa, this requires a lot from us, like this person, this group of people, they need us because what they're asking to hold every day is just a tremendous weight that can't be bared alone. And so I guess that's how I would sort of come at the grief and loss space most broadly. Does that make sense? Bryan Schwartzman: Yes. Thank you. I am just wondering, because you've chosen to take on this role and speak in a lot of different settings, you're very often resharing elements of the most painful thing that could happen to you. And I'm wondering, is it helpful to keep sharing your daughter's story? Does it ever feel like too much? Myra Sack: It definitely never feels like too much. I think what it sometimes feels like is like damn, I wish there were so much more of her story to tell. I wish. I hate that the number of memories, that the nature of the story is what it is. And so that reminder, which is always with me, can be hard. At the same time, it also pushes me to recall memories that I've forgotten, to make the time and space that her life deserves. And so I think in that way, kind of keeping her in the front row is so healthy and important for me, and also not possible all the time, given that she isn't here physically. And so sort of being able to notice that foreground background element of grief, like when do I need her in the foreground of my life and when does she move into the backgrounds never disappear? What is that rhythm? And I think for that, I'm really grateful that there are people and organizations for whom her story matters, that her life can be of service. That's the only thing that I think we want as parents, is to feel like our children matter and that they belong. And the way she belongs is so different from my living children. And yet the opportunity to really find ways for her to exist within the everyday, not just in sort of extraordinary or mystical ways, but in everyday life is part of why working in this space feels so rich. Bryan Schwartzman: Is there any general advice you offer to a family or parents who've experienced a traumatic loss? Or would it really just be a case by case, knowing somebody's circumstance? Myra Sack: It's the worst thing. I mean, it's the worst thing. And I think the thing that I say and would say is to honor that, to honor the immensity of the pain and the immensity of the love is everything. And anyone who can't do that with you for now maybe isn't the right person to be in your orbit unless you have the capacity, the time, the energy, the resources to help them and to help them get there, to help them appreciate that the loss is so big and that the love is so big and that it deserves time and attention and space. And to find people and communities who can do that with you, whether that is a really good grief therapist or whether it's a new friend who you've made because they too have lived this tragedy, that once you're able to find one or two of those people and feel seen, it can be tremendously supportive and healing. And that over time, other people I have noticed start to come back and start to see and start to want to lean in. And when you're ready, that's a beautiful moment to kind of let them. And that in some ways, it's really impossible for people who haven't lived the loss of a child to really fully inhabit that pain. And that's okay. That's okay, is what I've come to learn. And maybe the last thing I would say is that there's a beautiful book written by Dr. Joanne Cacciatore called Bearing the Unbearable, that's really meant for people who have experienced traumatic loss. And that book was the first kind of companion to me. And so bibliotherapy in that way, like reading powerful things can be also super regulating. Bryan Schwartzman: Yeah, I guess you have to be in the right space for it, right? I think I've told you offline, I lost my elderly father in the last year, and I tried to read Leon Wieseltier's, Kaddish is his sort of memoir of losing his father and exploration of the meaning of the Kaddish prayer. And my mind just couldn't go there, and I needed fluff. But I think it's finding the right book when you're in the right space. Myra Sack: Totally. Totally. Yeah. And I remember, I mean, your dad, his name's Robert, is that right? Bryan Schwartzman: That is right. Wow. Myra Sack: Yeah. Bryan Schwartzman: Good memory. Myra Sack: Yeah. No, you're like, you're spot on. I mean, there are so many things that I remember feeling like I wanted to read and I wanted to connect with that I just couldn't. And now, this is a really silly example, which you can edit out if it feels too silly, but just the other day I was telling you that it's been five years now since Havi's diagnosis day, and I did the Peloton on her diagnosis day this year. And I remembered that I couldn't do the Peloton for the first year after, first two years after her life, not because the exercise was hard, I couldn't listen to the instructors. I felt like what they were saying was so tone-deaf around encouragement and pushing through pain. And now I can tolerate it. And I'm inspired by it again, and it motivates me again. And I think it was a silly way of noticing how grief changes and softens and moves. And so yeah, I just wanted to name that. Bryan Schwartzman: This is a little bit freakish because you had no idea what my next question was going to be, and it's either perfect or superfluous. But you were a standout high school and collegiate athlete. You're in the Philadelphia Jewish Sports Hall of Fame, you're high school, Lower Merion High School Hall of Fame, probably, I assume Kobe Bryant is in there as well. So that's a good, you're in good company and you worked in the sports space after college. And I don't know, we often, the whole cliche is, oh, it's just a game. But for folks who live and breathe it, it's certainly not just a game. I guess I want to know, do you still find sports meaningful, having thought and been through the deepest, most profound things a person can experience? Myra Sack: My teammates, like my college teammates, soccer teammates are my best friends. And were the people and are the people who held our hands through Havi's life and death and still honor her so beautifully better than anyone else. Obviously our family is in that same category, but I think there is something so unique and special about the power of teammates that you can only really know if you sort of embrace the magic of sport. And then I think the aspect of healing, like one of the elements is movement. And I started to dig into why movement is so regulating and why does running help? And it's not just to clear my head, because sometimes when I'm on a run, I'm the most present with Havi and the most present with my grief. So it's not simply a distraction. It's so much more than that. And why is that? And that's what sort of led me to Dr. Bruce Perry's science and work on the regulating power of movement. And this idea that the patterned, repetitive, rhythmic activity as he talks about and writes about, that is inherent to movement when we walk, when we run, when we sway, when we swim, whatever it is, that that patterned repetitive rhythmic activity is the strongest somatosensory memory that we have, which is from the time we were in our mother's womb. And this is all Dr. Perry's work, and it's that memory is stronger than any other shard of trauma that we're experiencing. And so when we call on movement, when we call on that patterned, repetitive, rhythmic activity, we're tapping into the strongest inherent regulating mechanism we have. And that's why running helps. That's why when we walk and talk with someone, it's often easier for us to open up than it is if we're just sitting across from someone at a table. So yeah, I've never lost my love for sport and movement, and I miss being on a team, and I think it's such a gift if you're able to participate. It's been a lifeline for me. Bryan Schwartzman: We're recording in late December. I think it'll be just after New Year's when folks hear this. I'm just wondering what you're looking forward to in the year to come. Myra Sack: Wow. I am looking forward to time with my family always. I have two beautiful, healthy kids who are four and two, and Matt continues to be my best friend and my partner. I'm looking forward to finding ways to continue to make kind of grief education matter in spaces where it hasn't. And I think I'm hopeful that 2025 is a year that, I don't know, that we kind of pay attention to the surgeon generals calling out the epidemic of loneliness and start to find ways to turn towards each other and create real community and not be so anonymous. I'm looking forward to being yeah, just more in community, more social than maybe I have been for a while. Bryan Schwartzman: Well, Myra Sack, it's been a pleasure. Thank you for being on the podcast and for the work you're doing to help others deal with loss and lead meaningful lives. Myra Sack: Bryan, thank you so much. You're such a thoughtful interviewer, and I really feel so grateful that you had me on here. So thank you. And wishing you a super gentle and full new year. Bryan Schwartzman: Same too. Absolutely. So what did you think of today's episode? I want to hear from you. Evolve is about curating meaningful conversations, and that includes you. Send me your questions, comments, feedback, whatever you've got. You can reach me at Bschwartzman@reconstructingjudaism.org. We'll be back soon with an all new episode and happy New Year everybody. Evolve: Groundbreaking Jewish Conversations is executive produced by Rabbi Jacob Staub and edited by Sam Wachs. Our theme song Ilu Finu is by Rabbi Miriam Margles. This show is a production of Reconstructing Judaism. I'm your host Brian Schwartzman, and I will see you next time.