Los Angeles Jewish Home

By Nettie Freeman, 87
Los Angeles Jewish Home resident

Since becoming a resident of the Los Angeles Jewish Home in September 2009, I cannot innumerate the countless benefits of living in this fabulous facility. However, I must admit there is one phase of my past that I miss tremendously.

I was an excellent driver for over 55 years, with a commendable record. In fact, in most recent years when many of my friends had to give up driving, I was the “designated driver.” Driving on the freeway, driving at night, escorting my friends to countless doctor appointments, shopping trips—they were no challenge for me.

And then, lo and behold, my own driving abilities began to falter. Before I knew it I had to forsake my driver’s license and, alas, my life changed. The freedom of hopping in the car and running my errands at will was indeed a privilege. One doesn’t realize the extent of that freedom until you can no longer exercise it.

I promised myself that when that day came, I would be noble and accept it valiantly. But that is easier said than done. Often times I find myself in the “oh dear” mood, but fortunately I’ve overcome it quickly. I realize there are far worse compromises in life than not driving.

Talking to other residents here at the Jewish Home, we all have the same lament: “Oh, how I miss my driving!”

But we have all adjusted and take advantage of our volunteer drivers, city-ride, Access, taxis—yes, life goes on, even without a driver’s license.

Labels: Aging, Car, Driver, Driver's License, Driving, Freedom, Health, Independence, Los Angeles Jewish Home, Nettie Freeman, Residents, Seniors, Staff

The quote in the title line was said by Jewish Home resident Ellis Simon. Now 87, he's been living here for around 11 years! Granted, he's been saying that for quite some time now, but we finally caught it on tape.

Labels: Donate, Freedom, Gift, Jewish Home, Online Donation, Philanthropy, Residents, Simon, Social Media, Staff, Support, Video, Volunteer, Why We Give, YouTube

Imagine you are alone on a desert island. There's no one to tell you what to do; you can live wholly without restriction. Of course, after a while, you would stop relishing your "freedom". That kind of life is not true freedom; it is a life of loneliness and sterility.

When I was discussing Passover in one class recently, I asked what freedom was about. The first answer I got was "the right to express yourself." Indeed, free expression is one of the central principles of a free society, like in the United States.

But freedom of expression is very important on a personal level too. Even when we are surrounded by other people, we can still feel we are on a desert island. If I feel myself totally alone – an individual without real relationships, not truly part of a community – am I free to express myself? Not really, I think. I can truly express who I am only to people I can trust, people who care for me and will listen to me.

Let us remember, this Passover, that our true freedom lies in relationship and in community. Let our own Exodus be from loneliness to relationship, as we reach out to each other, and get to know cherish each other. Through those caring relationships we will all find our dignity and our freedom.

I wish you all a happy – and heart-warming – Passover!

Rabbi Anthony Elman serves as Rabbi of the Jewish Home's Grancell Village Campus. His professional background is multifaceted, encompassing the fields of law, social work, and psychotherapy. Rabbi Elman has been with the Home since his ordination and graduation from the Academy for Jewish Religion-California in May 2007

Labels: Community, Dignity, Elman, Exodus, For the Spirit, Free Society, Freedom, Freedom of Expression, Friends, Friendship, Island, Loneliness, Passover, Pesach, Relationships, Seniors

As we celebrate Passover, it is good to ponder on what the holiday is about. Many of us remember the story: the Israelites had been enslaved in Egypt for many generations until Moses, directed and inspired by G-d, led them out to freedom. That coming out, that Exodus, marks the birth of the Jewish people. But the meaning of it has resonated around the world throughout time. In our own era, Martin Luther King, Jr. found inspiration in the story of Moses and the Exodus, as he led his people in their struggle for civil rights.

Passover is known as the season of our freedom. But why is freedom so important? Why are people across the Middle East and North Africa even at this moment struggling, and sometimes dying, for freedom? Watching the news of those struggles has led me to think more about what it means to be a free person, and part of a free people.

People held down by a dictatorship or foreign power cannot fully thrive. It is not just that they cannot choose what to do; something in the soul of a people is beaten down. Their imagination and inventiveness are squashed — they are a people without true dignity.

Is freedom simply about being able to do as one wants? (Can any of us really do everything we want?) In our Jewish story, leaving Egypt meant we did not have taskmasters telling us how to live every minute of our day. We were free from those restrictions, but that didn't mean we were free to live a worthwhile and dignified life.

That is why Passover — the season of our freedom — and Shavuot — the season of the giving of our Torah — are so closely connected. Torah gives us laws and ethical principles, so that we know that real freedom lies in how we interact in our community and our larger society. First and foremost, the Jewish people are obliged by Torah to love our neighbor as ourselves; we must not oppress the widow and the orphan; we are repeatedly told to be respectful of the stranger who lives in our society, remember what it was like when we were strangers in Egypt.

Torah reminds me that in a free society, I have a duty of care and consideration for my fellow men and women. The free society that Torah gives us is one in which we are bound together in relationship.

Ideally we do not celebrate Passover in solitude. We celebrate it in groups, in families, in communities. At the Seder, we read from the Haggada "let all who are needy come and celebrate Passover." It is together that we are able to taste the sweetness of this "season of freedom".

Rabbi Anthony Elman serves as Rabbi of the Jewish Home's Grancell Village Campus. His professional background is multifaceted, encompassing the fields of law, social work, and psychotherapy. Rabbi Elman has been with the Home since his ordination and graduation from the Academy for Jewish Religion-California in May 2007

Labels: Civil Rights, Community, Dignity, Egypt, Elman, For the Spirit, Freedom, holiday, Israelites, Judaism, Letter from the Rabbi, Moses, Passover, Pesach, Torah