Stuck in my cave: A grandfather fights to reach his grandson’s Brit Milah

I’m sitting here in Israel, my heart racing, trying to make sense of it all. My son just welcomed a baby boy in Miami, born early, fresh out of the incubator.

The brit milah is set for Sunday, and I’m supposed to be there, holding my grandson Yosef, named after me, following our Sephardic tradition, as the sandak. It’s a sacred honor, a moment tied to family, faith, and even blessings of wealth.

But with no direct flights, tickets costing a fortune, and a fleeting $850 Newark fare that vanished, I’m stuck. I want to go with my wife, to share this joy, but the world feels like it’s conspiring against me. As I record this video, I’m torn: do I have anything to offer when I’m this lost?

The pain cuts deeper because of my father, Rabbi Yakov from Deal, New Jersey. Years ago, he defied all odds to attend my son Yakov’s brit milah on Shabbat. A pilots’ strike stranded him and my mother during a stopover, so they rerouted through Europe to Jordan, driving into Israel just before Shabbat. In a Jordanian village, the driver seemed suspicious.

My father, born in Syria and fluent in Arabic, played it cool, claiming he coached a soccer team. He flashed a JSOR (Jersey Shore Orthodox Rabbinate) sticker, its New Jersey emblem passing as a team logo, and got through. That’s the lengths he went to for family. Now, as I struggle to reach my grandson’s bris, I feel like I’m falling short.

I’m in my own “cave,” like Rabbi Akiva, trapped for 13 years yet finding strength. “What do you do when you’re stuck?” I ask myself. Flights with 25-hour layovers mock me, and every time I check my phone, hope fades.

But I think of Akiva, turning isolation into growth. Stuck in traffic, you can make your car a university, learn, reflect, or find peace. I’m stuck now, yearning to hold Yosef, but maybe this is my moment to embrace where I am. I could keep chasing tickets, but what if I make the most of this cave? My father’s determination, my son’s joy, and Akiva’s resilience remind me: even when I can’t move forward, I can still grow.

This isn’t just about a flight. It’s about family, faith, and finding meaning when life says no. I’m still checking my phone, hoping for a miracle to get me to Miami by Sunday. But if I don’t make it, I’ll carry my grandson in my heart, trusting that love crosses any distance.