grandma Ann’s earing
From the Menschville Journal
A Note from Gavi
Sometimes in Menschville, the stories that crack us open don’t come from research or books—but from those we love most. This is one of them.
It’s written by my wife, Shifra, about a moment that unfolded during one of the hardest weeks of our lives. As she writes below, we were going through a painful and high-stakes assessment process for our daughter, Hannah—who has been living through a complex and largely unexplained neurological condition.
What you’ll read is a glimpse into a mother’s experience of grief, strength, and the mysterious comfort that can arrive unbidden—sometimes in the form of an old diamond earring.
There’s no need to over-analyze stories like this. We simply offer them as they are: true in the way that matters most.
⸻
“Good Night, Mommy, For When You Go to Bed”
A story about coming from the abyss to the light.
My daughter’s memoir of unexplained neurological symptoms to a healing place of resilience.
By Shifra
June 7, 2025
It feels like the waves are crashing down all around me. This week we attended my daughter’s Autism Assessment—a panel of doctors observing her for two days, watching closely for any developmental differences, comparing her to what’s expected at her age.
I know, logically, this is just a way to group symptoms. To come up with a label so she can qualify for services like ABA. But it still hurts. Especially when people tell me I need to be “realistic” about my daughter’s capabilities.
The hardest part was hearing the words: her developmental level is that of a 3-year-old.
Then, this week, something else happened. My daughter went into my room—something she rarely does—and opened my jewelry drawer. She started taking out the boxes, opening them one by one. I didn’t know this until I walked in and stepped on something sharp.
It was my Grandma Ann’s diamond earring.
I looked down, and I said to myself: Okay, Grandma. I know you’re here, watching over Hannah.
I put the earring in my ear.
A Note from Gavi
Sometimes in Menschville, the stories that crack us open don’t come from research or books—but from those we love most. This is one of them.
It’s written by my wife, Shifra, about a moment that unfolded during one of the hardest weeks of our lives. As she writes below, we were going through a painful and high-stakes assessment process for our daughter, Hannah—who has been living through a complex and largely unexplained neurological condition.
What you’ll read is a glimpse into a mother’s experience of grief, strength, and the mysterious comfort that can arrive unbidden—sometimes in the form of an old diamond earring.
There’s no need to over-analyze stories like this. We simply offer them as they are: true in the way that matters most.
⸻
“Good Night, Mommy, For When You Go to Bed”
A story about coming from the abyss to the light.
My daughter’s memoir of unexplained neurological symptoms to a healing place of resilience.
By Shifra
June 7, 2025
It feels like the waves are crashing down all around me. This week we attended my daughter’s Autism Assessment—a panel of doctors observing her for two days, watching closely for any developmental differences, comparing her to what’s expected at her age.
I know, logically, this is just a way to group symptoms. To come up with a label so she can qualify for services like ABA. But it still hurts. Especially when people tell me I need to be “realistic” about my daughter’s capabilities.
The hardest part was hearing the words: her developmental level is that of a 3-year-old.
Then, this week, something else happened. My daughter went into my room—something she rarely does—and opened my jewelry drawer. She started taking out the boxes, opening them one by one. I didn’t know this until I walked in and stepped on something sharp.
It was my Grandma Ann’s diamond earring.
I looked down, and I said to myself: Okay, Grandma. I know you’re here, watching over Hannah.
I put the earring in my ear.