October 7: past, present, and a bottle of whiskey

October 7, 2024. Here I am, in Hackensack, New Jersey.

Or am I? I’ve watched too many videos and read many accounts of the horrors of October 7, 2023. Every time I do, my mind wanders, my heart pounds, and my thoughts race. I’m taken to a different, very dark place.

October 7, 2024. I am Mendy Kaminker, living in the 21st century, speed-typing my thoughts on a laptop I ordered on Amazon, using the latest AI technology to help improve my writing.

Or am I? I have read too many stories. I know too much history. I sometimes imagine being a Jewish child hiding in a cellar in Kishinev in 1903. I sometimes hear the frightening sounds of Cossack boots approaching. I feel the blood-curdling yells of youngsters meeting their end at the hands of the Crusaders in 1096.

October 7, 2024. My world and their world keep colliding. Merging. Interchanging.

History repeats itself over and over. The names of the villains keep changing, but the victim does not. And the details, oh G-d, the details of the stories, are so eerily familiar.

October 7, 2024. And I keep thinking about one whiskey bottle in my pantry. I received that bottle on October 10th, 2023. A good friend came to say goodbye; he was heading back to Israel.

He couldn’t bear the thought of so many hostages in Gaza, and he couldn’t stay here. Together we traveled to the rebbe’s ohel — his gravesite — to ask for a blessing for his journey.

When I dropped him off at his apartment, he asked me to wait. He had something for me. He handed me a bottle of whiskey and asked, with a voice choked with tears: “Please, every Friday night, at the Shabbat table, say L’chaim for me and my fellow soldiers.”

Thank G-d, he came back in peace and health, but I never stopped saying L’chaim every Friday night. For him, for his family, for the soldiers, for the hostages, for the entire Jewish people, for the world.

L’chaim, L’chaim — to life. To life? After all of this?

Yes, to life! Like the young child who emerged from the cellar, found a yeshiva, and studied Torah.

To life! Like the Jewish mother who lost it all and started again, bringing so much life and joy to the world.

To life! Like the Jewish people, who were beaten over and over, but never surrendered, insisting on living, thriving, and overcoming.

It’s October 7. And I want to cry as loud as I can, pray from the depths of my heart, and then let my ancient past become my vibrant present.

I want to tap into the inextinguishable spirit of the Jewish people of the past, and become like them: more Jewish, more proud, more connected to our G-d.

Because this is our history, and this history is definitely worth repeating.

May we merit very soon the coming of Moshiach!

Mendy Kaminker is the rabbi of Chabad of Hackensack and an editorial member of Chabad.org. He welcomes your comments at rabbi@ChabadHackensack.com