Every year, this time of year the sadness and depression creep in, setting up home in my heart and mind. I don't know why it is, maybe it was the time of great separation in the family, or some kind of traumatic event that set the tone for these holy days.

I am isolating and looking and being near people is very hard for me. More than ever. It was hard before but this time of year much more. For many years I built sukkot, and for many I spent them in the desert dwelling alone in them. I put a lot of effort into making them sturdy and wind-worthy, and in the end, it was a small table, a chair and me and God. The wafting of the bedouins and burning garbage would eventually be too much for me to take and I would venture back into the dwelling.

I don't think I ever sat in a sukkah with my family of origin. I don't remember this ever happening with my mother. But there were lulavs and etrogs and simchat torah was celebrated, at least with the flag and apple stuck on it.

It's almost a year since my mother's passing. If and when I make it to the synagogue, I will bli neder say the prayers for her soul.

It's a sad time. Hot days, hot nights. And the time for forgiveness of what is has come.