Going Home

I’ve never been jealous of my kids. Sure, their childhoods and young adult lives look vastly different from my own. They have a stability and unconditional love that I only dreamed of. All four have choices and are able to make decisions that I never experienced at their ages. None of this is surprising to me because I, along with my husband, have worked – literally (him) and figuratively (me) to near death to provide our children with every opportunity imaginable so they grow into well-rounded humans who are capable of making positive contributions to the world. 

However, today, I feel the sting of envy that is familiar to something I experienced a few years ago when our oldest returned to the land, making aliyah. Today, our second oldest followed in his big brother’s footsteps and is becoming officially Israeli. Don’t get me wrong, I hold no ill-will towards either of my sons. I am proud beyond measure…. Of their tenacity, drive, willpower, and perseverance (I mean Israeli bureaucracy, am I right?). Imagining how millions of others before us dreamt, for centuries, to return home and then seeing pictures at Ben Gurion of so many making the journey home, makes my heart sing. 

I only hope that those of us still in the diaspora, me, my husband, and our two youngest, are able to follow them and move to the land. A dream, long imagined, being fulfilled…. Next year in Jerusalem, B’Ezrat Hashem.