Behind the scenes- both hiccups and joy

Seven months ago my son Yeshaya had a Bar Mitzvah. Everything went right, besides everything that didn’t. It was an incredible Bar Mitzvah weekend filled with family, love and friendship. But let me tell you, it had its hiccups. Lots and lots of hiccups.

First, I wasn’t sure my mom was going to make it because of impending war threats. She did, thank G-d. So we got that worry out of the way when she arrived at the airport a few days prior.

It was the first time I was making a Bar Mitzvah party because for my older son, Tzadok, we went away with all our extended family for a long weekend to a tzimmer up north, but didn’t make an official party. It was complex to arrange, but contained and overall manageable.

This time around, I planned and planned…and G-d laughed and laughed.

First, a week before the Bar Mitzvah weekend, my photographer called and said he couldn’t attend the event; he was sick in the hospital. I had booked him months earlier because he was our wedding photographer and we loved his pictures- and him! I began the rush to find an available photographer, for the right price, for the following Saturday night. When I fianlly found someone I thought, “Good, I got the one thing that goes wrong for a simcha out of the way. Everything will be smooth sailing from here.” Right? Of course not.

I had ordered a suit for Yeshaya a few weeks before from Next, but it was too small when it arrived. I returned it, did the math and reordered a larger size knowing it would arrive on time. Which it did. But now it was too big. So with about 10 days left, I brought it to my friend Karen who is a seamstress. The following day, her mother Mimi, who I have known for years and is very dear to my heart, went to the hospital for something minor; she would be home in a few days. Nothing to worry about.

Then, the Friday of the week before the Bar Mitzvah, my dearest cousin Melissah, who passed away this past October at 46 from cancer, became a Savta in the next world; her daughter Ariella had a baby boy here in Israel! I did the math and thought how was I ever going to make it to the bris the Friday before the Bar Mitzvah? But I had to be there! I was hosting 30+ people for Shabbat, cooking all the meals, and making a kiddush after shul, with the party being that same Saturday night. I decided to go to Sha’arei Tzedek that Motzei Shabbat to visit Ariella and the baby just in case I wouldn’t make it to the bris, and while I was already in the hospital, I thought to go pop in and say hi to Mimi, who I actually befriended many years before her daughter Karen, but that’s another story. I called Karen over and over and texted her asking what floor was her mother on? What room? Which department? She didn’t answer. I thought to myself that she’ll be home in a few days, and hopefully she’ll even make it to the Bar Mitzvah. I got in my car and as soon as I left the parking lot, Karen texted me where her mother was. But it was so late and I had work the next morning, so I went home.

The next few days, I kept calling to see when she could finish the altering. She was busy with her mom but she assured me it would be done before shabbat.

Then the Thursday night before the big weekend, we decided to go out to dinner with my mom, but I was very jumpy and overwhelmed. Karan still hadn’t done the altering, and I wasn’t done cooking for shabbat, and in my rush, while “waiting” to exit the Alon Shvut gate to turn onto the main road- I crashed into the car in front of me. Don’t ask me how – my head just wasn’t paying proper attention. We pulled over and the man, who was not from the yeshuv, was very understanding. We exchanged information but the whole front of my car was damaged – as was the back of his. Very irritated, we still went out to dinner.

Later that night, Keren texted me she would do the sewing that night and it would be ready for me the next morning at her door. The next morning I woke up to a text that as soon as she had come home from the hospital the night before, she got a call from the hospital telling her that her mother had a stroke. She promptly turned around and went right back to the hospital – she was in critical condition. She gave me a list of numbers to call and told me where the clothes were in her house. Horrified by the news of her mother, I ran to get the suit and called everyone from the list. I explained it was a ‘Bar Mitzvah emergency’, trying to explain why it was last minute – and no one could help me. Until one woman, G-d bless her, said she would do me the favor – for a nice sum. We ran over to the seamstress and she measured him and told me to come back in a few hours to pick it up. I thought it’s a good thing I had visited Ariella at the hospital the previous motzei shabbat – there was no way I was making it to the bris!

The family started coming in from all over the country and everyone was staying somewhere else – it was a lot to arrange between welcome bags, thank you gifts to the hosts, and arranging the meals in the shul kitchen before shabbat, plus picking up the kugels and fruit platters for the kiddush.

Friday night dinner was beautiful, besides the fact that a tray of boiling hot meatballs spilled all over my dress and onto my 15 year old cousin who got burned – not horribly – but still burned. But besides that dinner drama, we sang and enjoyed the time together.

Shabbat day was BEAUTIFUL and Yeshaya did the most amazing laining. We had a private minyan downstairs from the shul and the davening was really special, led by Yoni. A friend who joined us for shabbat, who had the same Bar Mitzvah parsha, was supposed to finish off the laining that Yeshaya hadn’t finished practicing, but he had just had laser surgery a few days before and was struggling with his eyes. Miraculously, another friend who came for the minyan knew the parsha because it was his Bar Mitzvah parsha too – so he lained the rest of the parsha. We had a beautiful kiddush after davening with lots of friends and so much food that my friends had all pitched in.

I took a nap after our shabbat day lunch, beyond exhausted, and we had a small intimate seuda shlishit at the house for anyone who wanted to join.

The minute motzei shabbat ended, it was off to the races because the party was starting two hours later but we had to be at the shul for pictures in an hour and a half.  Yoni keeps Rabbeinu Tam, so I was on my own until he took out shabbat. I bathed the little kids, got them dressed, showered, dressed and waited for my friend who does makeup to show up for my mom and I. She was late. I started calling – and she wasn’t answering. After almost a half hour of serial calling her, I called her husband and he said he was on it. I had booked her weeks earlier – where was she? Suddenly she called me apologizing profusely – she forgot all about it – but she was on the way! She did a rushed job and although I was pleased at the time, in retrospect, I was too pale for the dress I was wearing. And she didn’t have time for my mom. (We are all human – and I love her regardless – but man was that hard because I have no idea how to put on makeup!)

We got to the hall and with all the effort I put into having our family colors beige/off whites and greens – I suddenly see Tzadok with a blue shirt – not the off-white shirt we had allocated for the Saturday night party. I looked at him and practically yelled “what are you wearing?” and he replied- “Mom, I came out and asked if I looked good while you were getting your makeup done and you said yes!” I barely remembered that under the pressure of time and couldn’t believe that I hadn’t realized he wasn’t wearing the right shirt. But we needed to take pictures because guest were already coming — and of course my ideal color coordinated pictures were totally off now with his blue shirt. But we all smiled.

After pictures, I was in a whirlwind of welcoming everyone – with over 250 people; 100 of them being my first cousins, aunts and uncles. It was a jam-packed hall. I had no time to give individual attention to anyone, but it was still so special to be surrounded by beloved friends and family from all over the country.

When we started dancing in the women’s section, I felt insecure about how my brand new sheitel was sitting on my head (my old sheitel was stolen a few months before – but that’s also another story.) A few minutes into dancing, my sheitel literally slipped off my head. Beyond embarrassed, I ran outside and some close friends came out and tried to fix it. The velvet band had been on the wrong way. After the sheitel was secure, and I tried to laugh it off, we kept dancing. But I was mortified. 

Then, when I got up to speak with the notes I had jotted down, I regretted immediately not having written out a real speech. Why did I think I could talk from my heart? I am good at writing, not speaking – but it was too late. Later watching the video I cringed at some of the things I said – oh well. 

When it was time for the videos, the DJ asked me where the button was to bring the screen down – I had no idea. I asked some friends who made simchas before in the shul hall and I was told that I had to arrange the projector ahead of time with a guy who rented it out privately – it wasn’t part of the hall. No one had told me that and we had 2 videos to show! I suddenly found myself on the phone tracking down the guy, asking if he could come immediately to hook it up; only he had the key. He came.

As the night was winding down, and my babies were getting really tired and crying for me, there was sudden commotion. Word got out quickly that there was an impending Iran attack coming and that it was just announced that all schools had been cancelled for the next day. Friends and family wanted to get home as soon as possible to their safe rooms. But Yoni had not spoken yet! His crowd wasn’t very big, but it was an excellent and emotional speech! 

The party ended late and I went home beyond tired but exhilarated from the simcha. I showered, quickly glanced at my phone and saw the message from Keren – her mother had passed away on Shabbat and the levaya was the next morning. I cried that I had not seen her the previous motzei shabbat. Why had I not been a bit more patient and waited for Karen to call me back with the room number? I eventually fell asleep in tears and woke up the next morning to a phone call.

My phone is set so that even on Do Not Disturb, it will still ring if someone calls 3 times in a row. This man on the phone had indeed called 3 times. Why was the shul kitchen and hall still not clean from shabbat and the party? There was another simcha that day at the hall – the kitchen had to be emptied and spotless by 10am. I didn’t know we had to clean everything the night before – no one had told me. I had planned on doing it in the afternoon after the levaya. Yoni and I ran to the shul and it took us 3 hours to clear out the kitchen and hall of all the stuff (and mess!) that had accumulated from the shabbat meals, kiddush and party.

Exhausted, we came home and took a deep breath.

So why am I writing all this 7 months later? Because at the time, I could not believe how it felt like everything was going wrong, one thing after the other, and I was so frustrated that after all my meticulous weeks and weeks of planning, and excel sheets, shopping, buying all the clothes and shoes for Yeshaya and the rest of the family, arranging the hall for shabbos and the kiddush, guest lists, invitations, RSVPs, benchers, last minute changes to catering, cooking and freezing, cooking more, buying so much chad pa’ami, getting decorations and centerpieces, arranging for everyone at their guest houses for shabbos, photographer, another photographer, hiring the DJ, compiling the videos, writing a song and speech, and so much more- so much went “wrong”. At the time, I had such a hard time with all the challenges – on top of all my regular life challenges. Why couldn’t anything go smoothly for me? Why are things always so difficult in my life?

But about a week ago, yes, only a week ago, I looked back on all these hiccups (because that is what they were) and just started laughing. Shtuyot– all of it!!!! And I realized you can call it tests, miniyot (or minios, depending where you’re from) – or just call it life. At the end of the day, looking back, it was the most spectacular Bar Mitzvah weekend. Surrounded by loved ones, celebrating his 13 years of struggles and accomplishments and rejoicing in his huge milestone of becoming a man – I was elated from the memories. I think back on how everything that was important went right. The meals were delicious, everyone was happy, the minyans were beautiful, his laining was amazing, the kiddush was so special, the party was magnificent, and all in all – I only have the best feelings around it.

And gratitude – lots and lots of gratitude. That I got re-married, have 4 stunning kids, that we have a beautiful community and that we were able to pull off such an incredible simcha, with the help of people who wanted to make sure Yeshaya got the most incredible Bar Mitzvah ever. Because he deserved it! 

I was, and am, so proud of him. He was his highest self and brought Yoni and I so much nachat!

Things happen. They always did, always do and always will. In my life and yours. Acceptance of reality is the only option, and focusing on the good is the only way to cope. Months later, I get that. 

And although I couldn’t get myself to photoshop Tzadok’s shirt to off-white in the pictures, I still hung all the pictures on the wall with pride. This is my family. And I love each and every one. Even if we aren’t color coordinated.