I remember sitting at my grandfather’s shiva with my mom and
aunt, sometime in 1995, surrounded by friends and loved ones. Suddenly, I had a
horrible thought. It occurred to me, that the barrier had been diminished. I had never thought about it until that
moment, sitting on my parents’ living room couch, looking at my mom on her low
chair and my aunt being comforted by others that there even was a barrier. You
know what I’m talking about? That
BARRIER, the one that separates you and protects you from the END.
As kids we are
usually blessed with a thick barrier of four grandparents and two parents. As
we get older though, the barrier weakens.
Sitting on my mother’s taupe sofa that day, I suddenly realized that not
only did it exist but that in that moment of my grandfather’s passing it had
been weakened. It was a terrifying
thought.
Many of you that know me know that since my kids were born
my parents come every year for around 5 months.
My friends (and my mom) have told me I don’t appreciate it enough. They
say I take it for granted. That isn’t
true. I have appreciated it and them and
the older I get the more I appreciate them and realize how blessed I have been.
My mom usually comes a little before purim and is joined by
my dad a week or so before pesach. They usually stay through yom
haatzmaut. The routine, in the last five
years that has developed is that my mother tells everyone what to do and we do
it. My dad goes to the shuk daily, I go
to the supermarket and she organizes it all. That is not to say I am incapable
or unwilling to do it myself. I mean I
am a pretty independent person and manage quite well on my own, but it is nice
to have someone in charge other than me.
She makes the food, rearranges the cabinets and drawers and offers Helpful
Heloise tips.
Every year my dad and I rent a car and drive to Bnei Brak
for a day of bonding in the non kitniyot grocery store. Arranging for the seder also is laden with routines; my mom polishes
the silver, I set the table and make the charoset; my pre-pesach chores since
childhood.
This year my parents are not coming. I know my mom is going
to say I shouldn’t write this post because it makes her feel bad but I can’t help
it. I am devastated Mommy. I am so
afraid you will never be here again and that I will have to do it alone. At the same time, I think, having her here is
a pain in the ass. We annoy each other, get on each other’s nerves and if she
tells me one more time her “suggestion” I might scream. Yet still, I want her
here. For all the selfish reasons. I
want her here for me, and for the kids, and because even though I love my
friends and we’ve spent all these holidays together for years, it’s not quite
the same as your biological family.
I have been thinking lately about my aunts and uncles. The next row of the barrier. I spoke to my aunt today and while talking
about the family I just kept thinking back to all those Sunday dinners with all
of us; my family and hers, our grandparents and their siblings and I realized that, once the barrier breaks down
again, who will I share those memories with? My sister was too little too remember. My cousins might not either, they were pretty
small themselves. These memories, which
I never really think about but all of a sudden seem hugely important to me.
I look at myself in the mirror and lately I do NOT see a
girl, or a young woman . I see older;
much much older. I think of how young
people look at me and realize they think I’m old. I’m part of a different demographic. I keep thinking that in 25 years I will be
the same age as my mom and that my girls will only be thirty. Isn’t that too young to have such an old
mom? Then, of course, I think about the
(additional) disservice I’ve done them.
I don’t have some witty or pithy ending. I’m just really
sad. The circle of life is NOT always
pleasant or happy. I’m trying to take it
one day at a time but most days I wind up crying. For what was, for what isn’t and for what I
hope will not happen for a very long time.
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