The Chemistry of Closeness

A Mother’s Message on Love, Balance, and Building a Home

In memory of our holy soldiers who fell sanctifying God’s Name and the Land of Israel:

Ephraim son of Liat and Shmuel, Yosef Malachi son of Dina and David, Eliyahu Moshe Shlomo son of Sarah and Shimon, Yosef Chaim son of Rachel and Eliyahu, Netanel son of Revital and Elad, Yakir son of Chaya and Yehoshua.

Parshat Vayikra — For My Daughter, Aliza

To my dear daughter, Aliza,

I cannot believe that this is your last Shabbat as a single person. It’s a dream come true for me that you’ve reached this milestone.

You’ve chosen the most incredible person to build your life with. We absolutely love and adore Aviram, and we are so grateful that you brought him into our family.

Aliza, I want to say something that I don’t think I say enough.

Thank you for being the first person to call me Ima—and for making me an Ima.

Becoming your mother has been the greatest gift of my life—there is truly nothing that compares to it.

These have not been simple times.

With a war going on, rockets flying, and everything so uncertain, we had to recreate your entire wedding from scratch. All the plans you had, everything you envisioned, had to be discarded and reconstructed.

Throughout all of this…you have been an absolute rock star.

You adjusted and readjusted. You stayed easygoing, kind, and open to whatever came. You handled every change with strength and grace.

What has stood out the most is who you’ve been in the middle of all of this.

At a time when a bride would naturally be focused on herself, you have been completely devoted to your grandmother.

Taking care of her, being there for her, showing up fully—day and night.

That is who you are.

So I turned to #ParshatVayikra to see what kind of message I could give you at this moment from a mother’s heart, a moment before Abba and I walk you to your #chuppah.

And I have to be honest—

My first reaction was, oh my God.

Parshat Vayikra? An entire parsha about #korbanot—about slaughtering animals?

Is this some kind of cosmic joke? Honestly, Leez, I don't know anyone who loves live animals more than you do!

I thought to myself, What am I supposed to do with this?

But as always, Hashem came through for me.

Because the more I studied the parsha, the more I realized, "This is actually exactly you."

You are someone who creates connections. You care deeply. You give your whole heart to the people you love.

And that’s exactly what a korban is.

It’s not a sacrifice in the way we think of it. It comes from the word "karov"—to come close.

The Ramban (Vayikra 1:9) explains that a korban is meant to draw a person closer to Hashem, not just through the act itself but through the intention behind it—recognizing that everything we have comes from Him and offering something of ourselves in return. The Sefer HaChinuch (Mitzvah 95) adds that the physical act of bringing a korban is meant to awaken the heart, to create an inner movement toward connection.

The whole idea of a korban is about creating closeness. About moving toward someone. About showing up, even when it takes something from you.

That’s what marriage is: love as something you build through closeness, through giving, through choosing each other again and again.

The parasha adds something very specific and curious.

It says:

“על כל קרבנך תקריב מלח” (ויקרא ב:יג)On every offering, there must be salt.

At first, it sounds like a small detail.

But, as you know, just as the smallest details in the Torah carry so much meaning and teach us so much, the small, extra things you do are just as powerful. I see them, and they matter more than you know—like the way you did your grandmother’s nails and put beautiful makeup on her. Those quiet acts of care are so precious and so noticed, and they truly mean the world.

I learned this Torah about salt from your favorite rabbi, Rav #EfraimPalvanov.

And when I read it, I knew it would resonate with you immediately because you love it when science is Torah.

Salt is something very interesting.

On the one hand, it preserves. It makes things last. It represents a brit—something enduring.

But what’s even more fascinating is what salt actually is.

Salt is made of two elements—sodium and chlorine.

On their own, they’re both dangerous.

Sodium can explode.

Chlorine is poisonous.

But when they come together in the right way, they become something stable, something essential, something that gives life.

That’s the picture of a marriage.

Not two perfect people.

But two strong people, each with their own nature and their own intensity, create a bond that allows them to become something steady and life-giving together.

The Ramban says that salt is a balance of opposites—fire and water held together.

In the language of Kabbalah, this is Chessed and Gevurah.

Giving and boundaries.

Love and strength.

Too much of either one doesn’t work.

But when they come together properly, that is Tiferet—balance, harmony, and beauty.

There’s one more thing about salt.

A small amount gives life.

Too much can destroy.

The goal is not to become less and not to lose your strength or your intensity.

It’s to know how to hold it with balance, how to build with it.

So maybe this is the message of this parsha just for you and perhaps the very reason you chose the most eventful weekend of the year to get married.

You already know how to love. You already know how to give. You already know how to show up with your whole heart.

My bracha to you is that as you build your home, love should be held with strength, with balance, and with a deep and steady connection—and that Hashem should always be at the center of it.

That you should continue to bring your full, authentic self into your marriage—with your full heart, your generosity, your ability to connect so deeply—and that your home should be a place where Hashem’s presence is felt in everything you do.

That you should build a home where nothing about you needs to be less, but everything about you becomes part of something stronger, more grounded, and full of life—and, knowing you, probably filled with many very loved (and very alive) animals as well. And since I'm your mother, I have to add, many adorable children, too.

A home of closeness. A home of real connection. A home built with love that lasts.

Like salt on a korban.

All my love,

Ima