Good Lord, I'm depressing.

Here, watch this!

Rites of Passage

Sometimes I think that Victor asking to go to the synagogue last year was more for me than it was for him. Since venturing over there, I have repeatedly been floored by things I've heard or seen there. All in a good way, but also unsettling. It's uncanny how the Rabbi's seem to say what I need to hear, or direct me to something I need to read without my saying a word.
A few weeks ago, Rabbi Nancy lost her father. After she returned to the synagogue, she was talking about her loss, and her grief, and she said "It's a rite of passage. It is. And it's ok." And it stopped me. This year has been marked by loss and sadness for my family, both home and work families. I have been to several funerals, several hospitals, and muttered countless prayers under my breath for the people I love. For her to say, days after losing her father, that death is a rite of passage and it's ok floored me. Because she's right, and I had never considered it before. It's not ok to lose the people you love. It sucks. It can be maddeningly painful. But it's inevitable. What's ok is to grieve for them. To feel that pain, that loss, and then to let it go. It's the letting go that I struggle with. Others it's the feeling. But for me, it's the letting go. I don't know how to not be sad for what could have been. I don't know how to not grieve for lost opportunities and connections, for missed events and tasks left undone. I want to know. I want to let go. I think in some ways, I've started to, and in others, my heart remains steadfastly clenched around the hurt and the hole they left behind.
Rabbi Nancy is assured by her unwaivering faith that there is something more than this life. That those she's lost will be waiting for her when her time comes. I don't have that faith. I have questions, and doubt, and uncertainty. But I want it. I find myself, for the first time in my adult life, hoping that I'm wrong. Hoping that there is something more, someone waiting on the other side of that particular rite of passage.

Neglected

This poor blog has been so neglected. It's been a helluva year so far. At some point, I'll sit down and write the fifty blogs rolling around in my head. But not now.

Dear Ramon,

We weren't expecting that phone call. I don't think any of us thought you were capable of dying. I know I didn't. I'm sorry. I'm sorry we didn't visit more. I'm sorry the boys didn't get to know you the way they should have. I'm sorry I didn't insist that we spend more time with you.
We didn't always get along. We couldn't always be in the same room at the same time, but I hope you knew that I know how important you were, and still are, to John. You were the single most positive and influential person in John's life. You taught him how to be a man when no one else would. You were the one person I knew he would talk to, even when he wouldn't talk to me. You were more of a brother to him than his own brother has ever been. You gave him a chance, and a job, when no one else was willing. You helped him find his way, and led him to me. I never thanked you. I took it for granted that I'd have the time to tell you exactly what you meant to him, to us. I was stupid. And I'm sorry.
I hope you didn't suffer. I know you weren't ready. You said so. We weren't ready either.
You were loved, jefe. You still are.
L

Dear Oscar,

Two years ago today, you came flying into the world, surprising everyone with your strength,assertiveness, and absolute male-ness.

It doesn't seem possible that you are two years old already. You have been the light and laughter in our lives since the day you were born.
It seems ridiculous that there was ever a time without you.
You are learning to talk more and more each day. The words you use, the phrases you create, fascinate and amaze me. You are so very expressive. I love the way you have figured out how to show what you cannot say. Your hands are never still, and your mind is never quiet. Your little dances and playful songs make me giggle, and remind me how very lucky I am to get to spend this time with you.
I forget sometimes that you are only just two. Your soul is much older. Your eyes are so much deeper. They always have been. It's easy to get lost in them, to forget all the growing and learning you still have to do.
I look forward to what each day brings you, what each day brings us through you. You are fearless and adventurous, the bravest little boy I've ever met. Your curiosity and desire to see, learn, and know all you can will take you so far in life. Even when you frustrate me, you amaze me, little man. There has never been another little boy quite like you.
And I thank my lucky stars that you're mine. Happy birthday, my sweet prince.
May you have many, many more before you.
Love,
Mama

So Fast

It seems like it was just a week or two ago that I walked Vic into his first day of kindergarten, and here we are, already at the start of Winter break. He's terribly excited to not have school. I had thought it would take a few years before the shininess of school would wear off and break would seem like a good thing. But no, I was wrong. He's beside himself! Tomorrow is his class Christmas party. He gets to sing the dreidel song in front of his class, and then he gets to help me teach his class how to play dreidel. We went to World Market and found the cutest wooden dreidels and the chocolate gelt. He's just sad that he can't eat the gelt. I told him he could use Skittles instead, and he seemed even more excited at that prospect.
Once school lets out on Friday, there will only be a few short days to get ready for the start of Hanukkah, and then a few short days before Christmas. We've never done a big deal for Hanukkah before. I've always lit the menorah by myself, for myself, but I've never done any other celebrating. I'm a touch nervous. I'm sure it will be a touch awkward and clumsy, but it'll be fun. I got the boys a menorah of their own to light. I'll let Vic try to light it on his own. That will be an adventure in it's own right. Vic and fire should probably not make friends very often if I want the house to survive the holiday season. I've invited friends over for the first night. I'll make a big dinner and the kids can open their gifts. I bought some books for them to read and some games to play. I'm hoping it'll distract them long enough for me to get some pictures. Really, what I'm hoping, is that they'll remember the fun, the family, the light they bring to our lives.

I'm not sure how much I'll get blogged for the next few weeks while the kids are off, so if I don't get back to it, have a wonderful holiday!

Ruminations and Giving Thanks

Some things should stay INSIDE my head.