As a Mikvah attendant, I have witnessed many moments of deep emotion and transformation. But one evening stands out with particular tenderness — when I had the honor of guiding a woman, a friend, through her Mikvah immersion following a hysterectomy due to breast cancer.

For many years, one of my most personal companions was the mikvah. It arrived in my life when I was young and newly married — a little nervous, a little unsure, clutching a towel and a sense that I was stepping into something ancient and intimate.

I was 35 when I was diagnosed with breast cancer. At the time, I had four little kids, ages six to one and a half. Overnight, we were thrown into a new world — genetics, surgery, chemo, and radiation.

For many women, immersing in the mikveh is one of the most private and spiritual moments of the month, a time for reflection, renewal, and connection.  Yet, even in such a sacred space, it’s not only allowed but essential to advocate for your comfort and sense of dignity.

But as the time drew near, I pushed these fair arguments out of my head and just took it one step at a time. I cleaned myself in a halachic permitting manner, checked myself, walked out of the house (I left my children with my guests) and trekked to the Mikvah...

When my husband Josh z”l passed away on May 18, 2023, I felt as though much of my own identity was lost with him. There are countless books on aveilut, on personal grief, and on family grief... Yet I have not found words that speak to the widow’s loss, to my loss, of religious identity.