Monday, June 15, 2020

To Have and To Hold

It's been three years, and the grieving continues. 

I wish Ma was here, I think at times. She would make me a magnificent paprikash. We would go clothing shopping together. She would be there for me when I'm wigging out because Ben has  a bad stomach. 

But then I was struck with guilt. Is that why you want Ma? I scolded myself. For what she could do for you? Shouldn't you want her here because you want to give to her?  

I then regret the gestures I had yet to make. For one example, her favorite food was sea bass, and thanks to my many dating years I knew the best place to have it was Colbeh. But Ma ate out rarely, and that was one experience I wanted to have given her. 

I was watching the pilot for Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist (SPOILER AHEAD). Zoey's father has been diagnosed with a degenerative motor neuron disease, and he can no longer communicate. Zoey sits by his side and cries that she wishes he were able to speak to tell her what to do, as her work life isn't too good and the guy she has a crush on is unavailable. 

I was irritated at Zoey. That's why she wants her father to speak? To help her with her crises? He's dying! Leave him alone! At least the next scene shows her bullying her family to take him on an outing he'd enjoy. 

Rabbi Aaron Lopiansky wrote recently how we have the completely wrong perspective about Moshiach. When everything is ok, we don't exactly yearn for him. But when things go to hell in a handbasket, suddenly then we cry for him. 

But if Moshiach is supposed to come simply when things are bad, then he would have come a really long time ago. Check your history, kids, much, much, MUCH worse things have happened. You want Moshiach to come because life got difficult? 

We're supposed to want him when everything is honky-dory. 

We're always told as kids that if we want Moshiach to come, we have to be really really nice. We have to stop saying loshon hara. We have to include everyone. How does that fit into the narrative that he should come when we are in a crisis? 

If we truly cherish people, we don't ask them Do something for me. We say, Let me do this for you

For those of you who have their mothers and fathers and spouses and children, use your opportunities to show how much they mean to you. 

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Just wanted to send you an internet hug, PL. And thank you for the important reminder.

And to chime in about Rabbi Lopiansky's essay, which I thought was excellent.

Princess Lea said...

*Hugs back* Thank you!