web analytics
January 29, 2015 / 9 Shevat, 5775
 
At a Glance
Sections
Sponsored Post


A Mother’s Lament

      I recently became a bubbe again with the birth of a granddaughter, Kayla Elisheva. While I am delighted, I am still trying to wrap my head around the fact that my youngest child Moshe is now a father. When he and his wife Maya told me that they were expecting  (silly me, I attributed her nausea during Pesach to matzah and the late-night feasting at the Seders) I called my sister-in-law to share the good news.


   ” My baby is having a baby,” I told her, and as I said it a wave of excited disbelief sprinkled with droplets of sadness washed over me.


     Just yesterday, he was tugging at my skirt and asking me for a “dink,” toddling around the house barefoot cause he’d pull his socks off almost as soon as they were on.  When did he and his brothers grow up?


      This is a head-shaking question that is surfacing more and more frequently in the minds of members of my generation, who with awed wonder – often paired with regret  – ask themselves,  “Where did the years ago?”


   I wrote the following poem on a particularly chaotic day when my children were still children.   I had no idea then that the time in my life that I “longed” for at that moment – one that seemed endless years away, would come upon me so quickly  – that I am still catching my breath.


    However, even then, I understood that time is a river whose current becomes faster with each passing day, and that I would one day look back and miss the yesterdays that were forever out of my reach.
 

A Mother’s Lament


For years I dreamt of a house so neat,
No toys on the porch spilling out to the street,
No coats, no book bags, piled up on the floor,
No clutter, no mess, as I opened the door.


For years I dreamt of a house so still,
No screams, no yells that pierced like a drill,
No quarrels, no squabbles to referee,
No rebellion, no defiance, no testing of me.


For years I dreamt of time for myself,
No stopping what I was doing to get toys off the shelf,
No early dawn breakfasts, no demands for more,
 No mopping up spills on a newly washed floor.


For years I dreamed of a childfree house,
No more canceled plans for me and my spouse,
No simchas left early because of a call,
Or lacking a sitter – not going at all.


No need to dream – the years have flown,
The children have left – all are grown.
They are immersed in lives of their own,
So busy and distracted – now and then they phone.


 When I come home, and turn the lock,
I’m greeted by the faint ticking of a distant clock,
I gaze into a hallway that is silent and dark,
The once- crayoned walls are shadowy and stark.


No longer are there explosions of noise,
No playtime invasions by girls and boys,
There is just a heavy quiet that is loud to my ear
And an absence of laughter that gets harder to bear.


This was the time I looked so forward to,
There were so many things I had planned to do.
Yet these longed- for activities have lost their appeal,
Life has a void my many hobbies can’t fill.


To pass the time, I often walk,
 I usually end up in our neighborhood park,
And as I sit and watch the children play,
How I ache for yesterday.

About the Author:


If you don't see your comment after publishing it, refresh the page.

Our comments section is intended for meaningful responses and debates in a civilized manner. We ask that you respect the fact that we are a religious Jewish website and avoid inappropriate language at all cost.

If you promote any foreign religions, gods or messiahs, lies about Israel, anti-Semitism, or advocate violence (except against terrorists), your permission to comment may be revoked.

No Responses to “A Mother’s Lament”

Comments are closed.

SocialTwist Tell-a-Friend

Current Top Story
IDF soldiers evacuating wounded near northern border town of Ghajar.
Northern Golan Heights Declared Closed Military Zone
Latest Sections Stories
Resnick-012315-Artist

Nouril concluded he had no choice: He had to become more observant.

Respler-012315

I find his mother to be a difficult person and my nature is to stay away from people like that.

Here are some recipes to make your Chag La’Illanot a festive one.

Baim-012315

Does standing under the chuppah signal the end of our dream of romance and beautiful sunsets?

We aren’t at a platform; we are underground, just sitting there.

Dr. Lowy believed passionately in higher education for both men and women and would stop at nothing to assist young students in achieving their educational goals.

It’s almost pointless to try to summarize all of the fascinating information that Holzer’s research unearthed.

The special charm of these letters is their immediacy and authenticity of emotion and description.

Why is there such a steep learning curve for teachers? And what can we, as educators and community activists, do better in the educational system and keep first-year teachers in the job?

Teachers, as well as administrators, must be actively involved in the daily prayers that transpire at a school and must set the bar as dugmaot ishiot, role models, on how one must daven.

Often both girls and boys compare their date to their parents.

We love the food, the hotels, and even the wildlife. We love the Israelis.

Few traces remain of the glory days of Jewish life in the kingdoms of Sicily and Naples, but the demise wasn’t due to the eruption of nearby Mount Vesuvius. Rather it was a manmade volcano called the Edict of Expulsion from Spain – and not even an invitation to return in Shevat of 1740 could […]

More Articles from Cheryl Kupfer
Kupfer-112114

Divorce from a vindictive, cruel spouse can be a lifelong nightmare when there are offspring.

Kupfer-092614-Books

Not knowing any better, I assumed that Molly and her mother must be voracious readers.

Unpleasant happenings are quickly discarded if they do not affect us directly.

I have always insisted that everything that happens to anyone or anything is min Shamayim.

It is so hurtful to heighten people’s sense of inadequacy and guilt in a matzav that is already horrendous and difficult to bear.

Make no mistake: in the wrong hands cars are weapons of mass destruction.

Where once divorce in heimische communities was relatively uncommon, nowadays every family has a son, daughter, sibling cousin who is divorced – sometimes twice or even three times!

Many go about the business of living frum, observant lives, but they are only going through the motions.

Printed from: http://www.jewishpress.com/sections/magazine/a-mothers-lament/2008/12/17/

Scan this QR code to visit this page online: