Pondering priorities as 2024 draws to a close

As once again the Jewish holiday of Yom Kippur (a day of self-reflection and repentance) recedes into a distant memory, I suspect many of us Jews are left with an inner promise to become better versions of ourselves. And then there’s the secular New Year’s Eve looming. What resolutions will any of us humans make?

How many of you will make resolutions as 2024 becomes 2025?

Though I haven’t committed to becoming a better version of myself and I stopped making New Year’s resolutions many years ago, I am pondering my priorities — specifically how well my list of priorities matches up with my life choices, day to day.

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Many of you may be familiar with the saying, “On one’s death bed, no one ever says I should have spent more time at the office.” Of course, the point of this adage is to remind us that we would be more likely to say, “I should have spent more time with my loved ones.”

But is that true? Some people absolutely cherish their work. It’s a very important part of their lives. They love being with their colleagues who share their goals or sense of purpose in this world. They get an emotional lift from being rewarded for their talents and hard-won skills.

I very much enjoy spending time with like-minded women who care about promoting health equity in the United States and living their Jewish value of helping to repair the world. It doesn’t mean I don’t cherish my family. I just value my volunteer work, too. On my deathbed, will I feel that I should have spent fewer hours on my work?

On a less lofty level, I do decide, perhaps too often, not to answer my phone because I am watching a suspenseful mystery on Netflix. Does it mean that the people in my life are less a priority than a TV show I can’t seem to stop watching? Of course not. But, sometimes, television is what the soul craves.

If I opt for television instead of the phone call, does it mean that on my deathbed, I will say, “I should have answered every one of those calls?” And what about now? After a loved one has passed away, am I asking, “Should I have answered the phone when I knew I was missing a call from a loved one?” Clearly, there will be no more calls from her now. But, perhaps, had I answered the phone, I would not have been fully present and, therefore, made her feel that her call was unappreciated. For sure, this person was a priority in my life. Was fatigue or an addiction to a TV series a justifiable excuse?

I am reminded of one April when I was a young mother, deeply immersed in Passover holiday prep. I was expecting 25 relatives for two dinners in a row that would follow each of the seder rituals, commemorating the Jews’ freedom from slavery.

My husband, then a fairly new partner at his law firm, asked me to come into New York from our home in New Jersey to have dinner with a client. I retorted that I couldn’t because, as he knew, I was deep into Passover prep. Later, I was telling my sister-in-law Monica (may she rest in peace) about it and she responded, “If someone you love asks you to do something, just do it; make one dish less and your seder meal will still be fine.”

I remember being taken aback for a moment because I had never quite articulated anything like that for myself when faced with conflicting priorities. Then again, Monica had seven children; surely she wasn’t always able to do what each one asked, even though she loved them all dearly. But the thought of doing so was a value she kept close to her heart.

So I listened to her advice. I went into New York to have that dinner with my husband’s client, and as it turned out, I had plenty of delicious food for both seders. Monica’s advice was wise. After all, decades later, I still remember it!

But here’s the thing: Expecting ourselves to honor all our priorities at any given moment is asking us to do the impossible. And I know Monica understood that. We need to accept the fact that we have to shift our priorities depending on the specific circumstances.

Though family may be number one on our priority list, we sometimes have to choose helping a friend who needs a ride to the doctor over a less crucial need of our kids. Or maybe we have an important work deadline and that needs to move up to priority number one, even though work may be number four on our general list of priorities.

It’s not rocket science, of course. It just means that we have to pause to think through the best priority choice of that moment, partially based on what the consequences of our choices will be. I was a more tired hostess for my Passover seders that year and served a slightly less extravagant array of culinary delights, but it was the right choice to fit that client dinner into my hectic schedule.

If we’re thoughtful and lucky, on balance, we will honor all our priorities with some measure of regularity and devotion.

Lonye Debra Rasch of Short Hills is a past president of the Northern New Jersey region of Hadassah and a member of Hadassah’s national assembly and the Hadassah Writers Circle. Married to an international attorney and the mother of two daughters and grandmother of three small children, she is a big advocate of yoga, book clubs, and time with family and friends.