Dear Ma,
It's been a while
Today’s Eliana’s birthday,
Chof Gimmel Teves.
She’s 14 years old,
It’s been 14 years since we sat in the delivery room,
you, me, ta and Ezzy,
waiting for the birth of my first baby.
You cried when she was born so I didn’t have to.
Now she’s a teenager with a phone and friends and raised eyebrows at everything I say.
I’m having to make some tough decisions for her and you’re not here to reassure me
to tell me that it’s the right decision,
to tell me that I’m doing amazing.
I agonize over every decision,
Will I ever feel like I’m doing any of this right?
It tears me up that you’re not here for this part.
The part where I turn to you and ask, “was I this crazy ?”
So you can smile and say, “you were so much worse.”
Ta was excited for this part.
I used to be a baby, having babies
Now I’m a mother raising children,
The transition has been swift and humbling.
You were right about it all.
That’s what I would tell you if I had the chance,
you knew it all because you’ve been through it all.
You were right when you would tell me,
you don’t see yourself.
I never needed to because you were so good at seeing me.
I want to thank you for the depth in which you saw me, but I’m too angry at you for leaving me.
(I’ll circle back by the next birthday)
You were right when you said,
we’re all trying our best and none of us know what we’re doing,
”Chana I don’t know, do you know?”
We both know that you knew.
Today, on Eliana’s birthday, I’m thinking of you.
I’m thinking of how you and ta set up my apartment when we came home from the hospital with Eliana.
I didn’t have to think if I had enough diapers or wipes or how to set up a bath,
you and ta went ahead and did all of that for us.
You’re not here to go ahead of me while I catch up following your footsteps.
Or maybe you are,
Maybe you’ve gone ahead and walked these steps and it’s my turn to follow,
so the foot prints will be even deeper, even more visible,
giving Eliana more clarity to know what’s right and why we’re all really here.
Happy birthday to my oldest,
Happy birthing day to me, and to you,
The one we came from.
I miss you more than ever,
It’s only getting harder.
I love you always and forever,
I’ll be waiting for you.


Rereading this
It's every gentle sentence that feels like a brick to the heart. It's the light nuances that open people's eyes. Love you for being brave enough to share even a glimpse.