"And you shall be a blessing..." Debbie Friedman, zt"l, May the memory of the righteous be a blessing

In November 1995, I attended the UAHC Biennial Convention in Atlanta and stayed with our close family friends, the Borths. Their granddaughter had recently been born and was in NICU, if I remember correctly, with heart issues. I visited her in the hospital and then went on to the convention, where in a worship service with thousands of other Reform Jews, I sang Debbie Friedman's Mi Shebeirach, a prayer for healing and cried into the shoulder of a friend.

On a cold February 14, 1996, I drove home from a peer leadership program at my high school to find out that my Aunt Liz had died. My father asked me to pick up my brother from Boy Scouts. I rolled down the windows of my car, frigid air letting me know I was alive, and listened to Debbie Friedman's L'chi Lach on repeat on my way to pick up Adam and probably on the way home, too. Its words, "and you shall be a blessing," comforted me.

During the summer of 1997, while on staff at Kutz Camp, my friend Emily taught me sign language to Debbie Friedman's L'chi Lach and Oseh Shalom, which I would use a few years later at Debbie Friedman concerts in Birmingham, Alabama and in Jacksonville, Florida, when Debbie would call me up on stage to sign alongside her. Later that summer, while on a day off, a group of staff and I showed up at Debbie Friedman's apartment. (I remembered her address from when she'd announced it from the stage at Biennial Convention in 1995.) She graciously welcomed us in, crazy teenagers that we were, spoke to us about her inspiration and her music, offered to order us lunch, and then walked us to the subway with her dog, Farfel.

This morning, Debbie Friedman died in her late 50s in Orange County, California. As Rabbi Daniel Freedlander said, "By creating a whole new genre of Jewish music, Debbie was able to reintroduce authentic Jewish spirituality." My own Jewish identity, my connection to worship, and the relationship I have with God stand on the foundation of Debbie Friedman's music and the impact she has had in my spiritual life. Her words and melodies will forever be a part of Judaism.

To her family and loved ones, we say, HaMakom y'nacheim etchem b'toch sha'ar avlei tziyon virushalayim, May God console you among all who mourn in Zion and Jerusalem. Of her we say, zecher tzadikim livracha, may the memory of the righteous be a blessing.