This edition of Before Shabbat is the last of the season. It will return to a screen near you on August 18th. That date marks the beginning of the Hebrew month of Elul, the run-up to the High Holy Days. Elul is the month when we clean up our mental hard drive and take stock of our spiritual status. It’s a gentle and liberating process that prepares us for the complex tasks of repentance and forgiveness.
But that’s two months away. Right now, it’s time to take a deep breath and chill out. If you’re lucky, summer provides some space to relax and do less. Stress is cumulative, so releasing the pressure valve is a good thing.
I look forward to that practice.
In the meantime, my daughter Zoe is getting married next week. The marriage of one’s child is a profoundly emotional experience. They talk about how the parents give the bride away. That’s a very dated, if not a downright non-pc description of what happens. This phrase is rooted in historical practices when daughters were considered property and marriages were transactions between families. The father “gave away” his daughter to the groom in exchange for a dowry or other considerations.
Believe me, such is not the case. My daughter, like her mother before her, is very much a free agent in this world and demands the equal respect of her family, her community, and her world. Nobody tells Zoe what to do, who to marry, and how to live her life. Plus, her fiancé is starting med school, so there’s not a lot of dowry to collect for the time being…
But there is certainly a transition in our relationship. I feel a sense of loss even as I welcome a new son-in-law into my life. I will always worry about my daughter. I will always want to know where she is every minute of the day (thank you for the ‘Find My Phone” app). And I know now that her partner will be there for her to answer the questions I used to answer. That’s how all of this works. It’s what’s supposed to happen. And I’m okay with that. But it does make me sad.
Our lives open and close and shift all the time. We are confronted with issues we never imagined. Many of us are faced with moments we’ve anticipated for years and quietly awaited, from the birth of children and grandchildren to the death of our parents. Some of us are reeling in the years, tasting the bitterness of regret and the road not taken. This is not a formula for success. We only pass this way once, so why not make it a good trip? Rather than mourn the end of one phase, I celebrate a new chapter opening. We aim to give up our acquired habit of powerlessness, the idea that we cannot change, and, trembling at times, crack open the door or the window again to new possibilities, and let the breeze rush into our closed room. We aim to open our hearts, even if that means opening ourselves to uncertainty and even pain.
It’s the truth about aging gracefully, resisting the urge to look back, and then tragically turning into a pillar of salt. I am so excited about Zoe’s wedding next week and Molly’s wedding five weeks later. So much to see in the rear-view mirror. But there is so much to anticipate right here in front of me. There is so much life to celebrate.
Please relax and enjoy some quiet, reflective time.
Before Shabbat 