To Molly on her 8th Birthday

Dear Molly,

As your eighth birthday approaches this weekend, I am taking a few moments out of my Pesach preparations to write this annual letter to you. I am not exactly sure where eight years have disappeared to, but here we are. The baby/toddler years have given way to a juvenescence filled with every emotion possible. You are engaged with everything. Learning isn't a chore for you; it is a wondrous adventure. You seem to want it all, even if it could pose obstacles. I loved how you asked for skates and skating lessons this year because you are interested in learning to play hockey. Given that your dad comes from a long line of winter haters, this foray into embracing the cold made me smile. And you took to the ice like Marie-Phillip Poulin! Well...almost. There are still a few kinks to iron out, but you are moving around the rink without too many tumbles and have embraced this new skill with verve.  

You have continued to delight us with your theatre skills. There is very little stage fright in you. That absolutely amazes me. Do you know that even today, every single time I stand up to sing in front of a crowd, I feel clammy, nauseated, and sweaty? Honest! I have never managed to feel half as comfortable on a stage as you appear to. Imparting my deep and almost obsessive love of musical theatre to you has been a true joy. We've gone to a few major musicals together in the past couple of years, and I promise you that as long as I am able, there will be more. So many more. You have embraced this art form in a way I could never have imagined. 

This was the year that Zaidy and I realized that we were developing a relationship with you that didn't include your parents. When you started texting us, sending us videos of your rehearsals, stickers, and finally FaceTiming us on your own, we knew that we had moved into a new realm. You were the initiator, and we were the thrilled recipients.  I can't tell you how much joy I feel when I see a message from you on my phone. I drop everything I am doing at that moment to engage with you. Sometimes, I wonder if you are just bored and I am the thing to keep you busy. I DON'T CARE! I am happy to be your boredom buster, and I will continue to do that forever. 

This year, Molly, I have been giving a lot of thought to legacy. What will you and others remember about these days and the people who inhabit your inner circle? Have we made an impact, not just on each other, but on the world around us? It is all very raw and deep for a carefree eight-year-old, but for me at sixty-three, it weighs heavily. During one of our many conversations this year, you mentioned how the leader to the south had upended several family visits. I was startled. I asked your dad if he and your mom had talked to you about the current world situation. He said no, and that they planned to keep it that way, but he also wasn't surprised to learn that you were aware of some of what has been occurring. It is everywhere. It made me realize that no matter how hard we try, we can only keep you sheltered for so long. You are at a stage in your growth where you are trying out new ideas and opinions. I feel that it is my responsibility, among so many others in your world, to put you on the Derech Eretz. According to the ancient rabbis, this is our ethical pathway in life. It signifies common decency, respect for others, and necessary interpersonal skills. It encompasses respectful speech, manners, and dignified behaviour towards elders, teachers, and neighbours. It emphasizes sensitivity, empathy, and maintaining high moral standards in daily interactions. These are all qualities you already possess and are actively developing. I desperately want you to understand that the person you referenced is everything that is wrong with the world today. Using shallowness, xenophobia, racism, corruption, bullying, and cruelty as a basis for leadership is always wrong. I know that you inherently understand this, but I have seen people I used to love and respect disappear into the morass of this cult. When life deals you a difficult hand, and it inevitably will, I hope that you will approach the problems with grace and dignity. When we lose that, we lose our humanity. Solutions can never be found by hurting others. 

I have come to truly understand that at this particular moment in my life, time moves only in one direction. It is what we do with the days allotted to us that really matters, and the footprint we leave on those closest to us. You and Talia are my whole heart. I desperately want the two of you to carry a bit of me throughout your journeys. I know that sounds incredibly self-involved, but I have discovered that it seems to be ok at my age. To that end, I have a story to share with you.

When I was twelve years old, I got my ears pierced. It was an occasion to celebrate because my father had been adamantly opposed to it. My mom took me to the mall, and I had it done. I was a bit worried about how my dad would react. He seemed oblivious to the new shiny studs in my ears. When my mom finally asked him if he noticed, he nodded and said, "Yes, but I chose to ignore it." The very next day, my mom had her ears pierced too. My grandmother, my Bubby Chayla, had wanted me to pierce my ears for years. She was so excited to hear my news. She gifted me with a pair of her small gold hoops. They were really lovely, and I wore them for years. She died about a year later, so those earrings meant the world to me. Unfortunately, one of them went missing. Too many moves, too many years. I still think of those little hoops, and I desperately wish I still had them. They were one of the very few tangible things I had of hers.

A few weeks ago, you excitedly called us to tell us that you were getting your ears pierced. You told me that you discussed it with mom and dad, explained why you wanted to do it, and asked if it was possible. You were so thrilled when they agreed. Honestly? Zaidy and I weren't sure you would go through with it. The smiling after photo was truly awesome. I thought about what I could do to help you mark this major milestone. I did visit a couple of jewelry stores, but every pair of earrings seemed inadequate. I thought about my Bubby Chayla and her gift. I wish I could give you the earrings she gave me, but that just isn't possible. Instead, I will continue her tradition and give you a pair that means a great deal to me. These small hearts were a gift to me from your Zaidy. I used to wear them a lot, but now I lovingly give them to you. They are a symbol of our bond, our family, and our love. I hope that you wear them with pride. Try not to lose one. 😉 I hope that you are a tad more responsible than I was.

Happy Birthday, my dear Molly. May this year of eight be exciting, filled with fun, joy, lots of new experiences, and so much love. I adore you and am so very proud of you. 

Love,

Bubby

Talia is Four!

Dearest Talia,

I'm going to begin this letter to you for your fourth birthday with a short story.

Back in June, we gathered as an extended family to celebrate Zayde's birthday. It was a lovely Shabbat dinner filled with pizza, salad, and pasta, all Zayde's favourites, but with a grandmotherly eye toward making sure the kids were happy. 

Every time you were offered something to eat, you said no. 

"Talia, do you want some pizza?"

 "No," came your emphatic reply.

 "Talia, do you want some pasta?" 

"No," you said, shaking your head. 

None of this was concerning, nor was it anger-inducing. We have all been around long enough to understand the food routines of toddlers. Your Uncle Daniel, in particular, was greatly amused. He relished the negative responses. As a former picky eater himself, I like to think that he was commiserating with you. He kept asking. 

"Talia, do you want some challah?" 

"Nope!" 

"Talia, do you want some salad?"

If looks could reduce a grown man to a puddle, this one from a 3 1/2 year-old was liquifying. 

He set you up like a pro and was ready to pounce.

"Talia, do you want a cupcake and ice cream?"

"NO!" It was the shout of pure determination and purpose.

And then came the look. It was the look of realization and expectation. Caught in a negative web of your own spin.

"YES! I want cupcakes and ice cream." 

Of course, we laughed, and of course, you laughed too. You were never upset. You just wanted what you wanted when you wanted it, and nobody was going to make you do something you didn't want to do.

I have given a lot of thought to that day. It isn't unusual for children your age to say no. It isn't even unusual for them to say no to everything. It is a growth exercise that allows for setting boundaries and limits. We all have things we like and don't like. It could be food choices or fashion. It could be activities or a favourite subject at school. We like some things a lot, and some things we simply tolerate. And then there are those things we find unbearably disagreeable. You couldn't get me to eat eggplant even if you covered it in chocolate syrup, and I know how you feel about broccoli. I think the exact word you used was yucky. As a wise woman once said, "No is a complete sentence."

There is a stigma attached to saying no. Nice girls are the ones who go along to get along. Good girls are agreeable. Being upbeat and positive is the best way to get ahead. 

What utter nonsense.

Sometimes we need to push back. Saying no is one of the fundamental life lessons many women fail to learn. We often take on more than we can handle because we neglect to say no. Many of us find ourselves in difficult situations that could have been solved if only we dared to say no. Talia, I am in awe of your ability to push back. You have taught me a great deal about what feminine strength looks like, and I value that more than you can know. My hope is that you will continue to explore your strengths and things you relish with positivity and intention, all while standing resolute against anything that doesn't meet your standards.

Becoming a four-year-old is really exciting. How can it be that you will be starting JK in the fall at the same school as your sister? How did we both age into that era? I admit to some concern about how being a child of the lockdowns, all that isolation, might affect your socialization skills. I needn't have worried. Watching you thrive and grow throughout your childcare/nursery years has been a wonder. This summer, you went to camp for the first time. There is a photo of you grinning from the bus that made me melt into my socks. There was such unwavering independence apparent in that smile. When we asked you what you did that first day, you proudly exclaimed that you went down the waterslide all by yourself. It was just so matter-of-fact. No wavering. (Of course, being four, you've decided that waterslides aren't necessarily your thing. Maybe when you're five.) You have discovered your own strong voice, and you refuse to be bossed around by anyone, especially Molly. I love watching you have dance parties with your sister, and I love that you perform Let It Go like it is the last song you will ever sing. You emote like a Broadway Belter, and you understand innately that it will never sound perfect unless you are wearing your Elsa costume. 

I adore that you are a staunch and singular cat-lover in a dog-loving family, and I can forgive this mistaken life choice because you are just so emphatic about it. Your deep affection for animals, especially sea creatures, has reignited my own, and I am absolutely determined to find you the perfect dolphin stuffy. I have gifted you with a few fairly mediocre ones, but this quest has absolutely become a lifelong pursuit for me. 

I love that you refuse to perform on command. There is no doubt that you are more than ready for your next school step, but you won't show off your knowledge unless it is your idea. I love that, despite being small in stature, you refuse to let anyone think you are a "little girl." This is an emotion I understand very well. I always hated the word "cute." Cute is for puppies and teddy bears. We are fully formed people. Being petite should never disqualify you from anything. Stand up strong and be loud when it is appropriate. The world may not have been built for us shorties, but we can force it to pay attention.

Talia, you are the next in a long line of strong, opinionated women. This is a good thing. We speak our minds in this family, and we won't be suppressed in our conversations. But it is also important to learn the art of active listening. We need to pay attention to others and understand their perspectives. We can engage in the debates without always having to win. Learning the art of compromise and when it is necessary is a skill that will come with time and growth. You have the luxury of both. 

Happy Birthday, my dear one. Eat that cake with gusto. Dance like you are looking for a unicorn around every corner. Sing loudly and proudly. 

I love you with every fibre of my being.

Love,

Bubby

For Molly On Her Seventh Birthday

Dearest Molly,

Guess what, darling girl? The seasons have once again done a lap around the sun and you are celebrating another birthday. 

It is hard for me to believe that you are really seven. Did you know that the number seven holds special significance for us Members of the Tribe? It is the essence of holiness, completion, and perfection. There are seven days in a week and seven days in the Divine Spirit's act of creation. Shabbat is on the seventh day and is the supreme time of peace and divinity. In Jewish Gematria or numerology, the Hebrew word gad, which means fortune, equals seven. The Hebrew word, mazal, which means luck, adds up to seventy-seven. There are so many great and holy things that seven signifies. Seven is a pretty freaking excellent age to be.

This year, it is your turn to be seven. Every time I look at you, I see your age's true meaning and completeness. There is a maturity that has descended upon you. You are no longer that baby girl with the chubby cheeks. You are growing by leaps and bounds, and I have no doubt that you will be taller than me within a couple of years. (Not much of an accomplishment given my challenged stature, but a milestone nonetheless.) You have a mischievousness that tickles me and a brilliance that shines through every discussion. Your imagination is always humming and your ability to find joy in the small things makes me so happy. I love seeing the world through your eyes. It is filled with rainbows and unicorns. It is the epitome of what seven should be.

I wish I could tell you that the world around you is also as carefree and happy as you are. Unfortunately, we live in uncertain and complicated times. Norms that I have taken for granted throughout my life, are crumbling as difficult and cruel people assume the mantles of leadership. It would be easy to stay silent and tread carefully to avoid confrontation with the ugliness, but I need you to know that nothing good ever came from NOT calling out injustice. We need to stand up and be brave, even when the situations terrify us. Too many people are closing their eyes and ears to the hardships of others. I cannot implore you strongly enough to be the difference maker. Be the person who stands up and speaks with a clear and impassioned voice. 

Women, girls, marginalized communities, people of colour, people who speak differently, people who learn differently, Jews, Muslims, people who identify as non-binary or transgender, First Nations, people without means or who are unhoused; they are all under attack from those who refuse to understand or learn. You are a very lucky girl, Molly. You were born into a family that loves and cares for you. They want you to have the best education and to access the best opportunities available. Not everyone is like you. Some might need a bit of help or encouragement. Some might need a lift or to just feel seen. When our leaders look at those who are somehow living outside of the mainstream or on the margins of society and refuse to see their humanity, we must call them out on their bigotry and narrowmindedness. It is our moral and ethical responsibility. Challenging authority, especially when it has descended into intolerance, is our duty as human beings.

Never let anyone tell you that you aren't good enough. Never let anyone define your worth by their own prejudices. Never let anyone bully you or pressure you into going against your conscience. Never let any man overshadow or take credit for your accomplishments. Be strong, be kind, be tenacious, be polite, but be firm. You get to decide what is right for you. Always maintain your spirit and your empathy. Life can be tough sometimes, but if you walk through it with compassion and dignity, you will be successful.

Role models are everywhere. Choose them wisely. Our heroes and mentors are often right in front of us. They don't have to be rich or famous. They simply have to make good and inspiring choices. Follow the paths that others have trod and then blaze your own. When you stumble, and you will, keep going. You have so much to offer and so much to give. You will eventually find that thing or that spark. It is within you. 

You are celebrating your year of mazal, your year of luck and good fortune. We are taught in the Talmud that we can impact our mazal through mitzvot. If we live well and do right by others, our fortune will be felt for generations. Molly, don't let anyone convince you otherwise. Live with an open mind, an empathetic conscience, and a clear-eyed resolve. Treat people as you wish to be treated, and help those whom society has ground down. Above all, speak against injustice when you see it. 

Happy Birthday, dear heart. May this year of seven be everything you want it to be. I love you with all of my heart and being.

Love,

Bubby

Here is a song by one of my favourite artists. Call it an add-on birthday gift. 

Molly Is Six!

Dearest Molly,

Time is a funny thing. For kids, it passes oh so slowly. School days sometimes seem to drag on forever, with no end in sight. For us older folks, we can’t believe how quickly the calendar turns. An old parenting adage says, “The days are long, but the years are short.” From my perch, on the wrong side of sixty, it has never felt more poignant or more true. As you approach another trip around the sun, I am marvelling that this is the seventh letter I have written to you on these special days. I wonder if I am repeating myself in these missives, and then I realize that it doesn't matter. I am writing from a specific point in time; a tiny dot in the connections of your young life. Things change so rapidly in the world today, but I am hopeful that someday you might find use for these petty scribbles. I hope that these letters can connect us across a continuum of space and time and that hopefully, you can look back on them with nostalgia, love, and maybe just a wee bit of childlike excitement. 

I thought that for this birthday letter, I would tell you about some of the amazing women in your lineage who never had the chance to meet you, but would have been so awed and totally captivated. These wonderful people helped to shape me and make me a better person. They were kind, compassionate, and fierce in their own ways, and they served as both inspiration and role models for me when I was still searching and in need of guidance. You see, Molly, we stand on the shoulders of those who came before and it is important to remember the lessons they taught.

My grandmother Essie was my lodestar when I was a kid. Widowed at fifty-three, she came to live with us when I was younger than you are now. I've been told she was lost and sad in those first years, but that isn't how I remember her. She would sit with me for hours and tell me stories about her rebel days. She was a bit of a wild child who liked to think of herself as a flapper and enjoyed fun evenings out as a young woman. She loved to dance and party. It was difficult for me to imagine that my grandmother had lived a whole other life that I didn't completely understand. When she met my grandfather, he lied to her about his age and it wasn't until they were getting ready to marry, that she discovered that she was three years older than him and that he needed his parents' permission to wed. She used to joke about "robbing the cradle," but it never seemed to bother her that she married a younger man, even though propriety at that time dictated otherwise. She was stylish and always perfectly coiffed. She worked her entire adult life, mostly because money was tight, but she held jobs as a working mother in an era when that simply wasn't done. By the time I knew her, she was still working in women's fashion stores every day until her mid-seventies. She loved her work. She was so proud when I came to visit the store and she could kvell to all her friends and coworkers. She would bring home treats every day for Uncle Michael and me and she would sneak them to us when my mom wasn't there. She often travelled with us, and I will never forget her joy when we toured England and Israel. She was feisty and strong in those days. She devoured everything she saw and she flirted with one of the single men on our tour. When I was twelve, she told me that she was moving out and getting her own apartment. I cried for days. I couldn't imagine her not being in that room at the bottom of the stairs. She lived long enough to meet and dote on your Uncle Daniel and your dad. She was tough but fair. She was lovely and loving. She taught me compassion and patience, even though the lessons went missing more times than I can count. Thinking of her today reminds me that even when life throws you the worst possible curveball, there can be joy. 

Zaidy's grandmother Rae was a truly extraordinary woman. From the first moment I met her, she wowed me. She was a powerhouse of personality all compacted into a tiny frame. When Zaidy first brought me to meet her, she hugged me and told Zaidy that he wasn't allowed to ever let me go. She had seven grandsons and I was the first girl to enter into that generation, so I quickly became special to her. She was tough and brash and she spoke her mind with a refreshing ease. She subsisted on caffeine and plain potato chips. I don't think I ever saw her eat a complete meal. Perhaps it was because she was the worst cook you could possibly imagine. Everything she made was a different shade of grey, but nobody in the family would ever tell her, either out of benevolence or sheer terror. But as horrid as she was in the kitchen, she had golden hands when it came to anything with a stitch. She was a seamstress extraordinaire. I didn't realize how widespread her clientele was until one day, my Bubby Essie went to have some clothes altered. She saw a picture of your Zaidy in Rae's home and asked how she knew him. The connections were strong. She hopelessly tried to teach me to knit. I was over at her place every day attempting to retrieve dropped stitches and pulled yarn. Those times were some of the best I ever had. She would ply me full of some store-bought baked goods while she tried to be encouraging about my lack of talent. It was never about the knitting. It was about sharing. I had been told stories about how she wasn't the best mother. She was opinionated and could be harsh, but I never saw the neglectful side. She worked hard all her life and I believe she did the best she could. For me, she was a link in the chain that brought me closer to Zaidy's family. She wanted so much to be there for me. She offered to babysit and would often show up unannounced with Zaidy Harry just to visit. When she became less able to get around, I would take her grocery shopping. A child of the depression, she instructed me to drive to every store in the area because that's where the deals were. Of course, it would have been easier for me to just do the shopping for her, but that would have denied her the outing with me.  Bubby Rae lived her passions. She loved the only way she knew. She is a reminder to me to always seek out that which makes you happy. Surround yourself with good people and never be shy to express an opinion. 

My aunt Marlene was my Other Mother. I simply don't have a childhood memory that doesn't include her. She and Bubby Sheila were two halves of the same whole. The balance they brought to each other was stunningly amazing. Marlene loved me as if I were her own. She always said that she had four children. I spent almost as much time in her home as I did at mine. Miriam and I used to plot about how we could arrange sleepovers, and while she feigned annoyance, she never cared. She was gentle and yet, she exuded a quiet strength infused with tremendous compassion. I used to watch her lovingly feed and care for the hundreds of puppies that passed through their home, sometimes at hours of the night that weren't meant for human beings. There was something innately maternal about her. It transferred easily to the hundreds of youth groupers in her care. She was creative and she loved trying new things. Cooking and baking were a true passion. I still have hundreds of her recipes written in her own hand, and I feel her presence when I use them, although I still cannot accurately recreate her rugelach. She could talk your ears off and her shaggy dog stories are legendary. She introduced me to Star Trek, Cary Grant, a love for old movies, and country music. I'll never forget going into her Florida home shortly after she died and turning on her music app which was set to Lady A. I cried for an hour. When I remember her, I know I was loved fiercely and how I was guided by so many caring and kind people. She was simply marvellous. 

Molly, these women shaped me. They helped point me in directions I never would have thought possible and they made me feel as though I could accomplish anything. Along with other role models, like my own mother, your mother, and various teachers and mentors, these women built a foundation for me upon which I built my own womanhood. They weren't perfect people, nobody was or is, but they blazed a path forward that I could follow. It is my hope that you will find and embrace amazing women throughout your life, too. The men in my life have offered different lessons and should never be discounted, but it is the women who gave me the foundation.

Happy 6th Birthday, my darling Molly. May the coming year bring only fun, joy, health, and amazing new experiences. May you continue to find and embrace all sorts of people who will help guide you along life's path. 

I love you with all my heart. 

Love,

Bubby

 

To Talia On Her Second Birthday

Dearest Talia,

The author Gretchen Rubin once wrote, "The days are long, but the years are short." She was discussing parenting and how, despite so many trials and obstacles, watching children grow and mature seems to happen in the blink of an eye. Two years have disappeared in the blink of my eye. Here you are, on the precipice of two, and I honestly can't figure out how that is possible.

You were born right smack dab in the middle of a pandemic that was unlike anything anybody had ever before witnessed. We simply didn't know how our lives would recover or change. So much of what we knew before, like bringing a child into the world and raising an infant, was different. We were all so isolated and scared. Previously simple things, like introducing new people into your world, weren't the slam dunks they were for your sister. It imbued within you a sense of caution and care. And while it wasn't always thrilling to have you cry when I came close, I inherently understood how difficult navigating newness was for you. The side-eye glances and quivering lower lip were my cue to abandon ship, and once I put myself into your onesie, I got it. You were determined to take your time with people, and frankly, I think it is a skill that more of us should learn and adopt. 

We started finding our footing during the family trip to Disney last August. Spending prolonged periods with you alone allowed you to find your comfort zone. Disney can be an assault on the senses but you were down for it. Zaidy and I had a wonderful opportunity to have you on your own while Molly went off to do other things. Catching your cues and understanding who you were becoming, allowed us to unlock the beauty that is you. Watching you dive headlong into sampling new foods or ravaging an ice cream, gave me such a sense of the wonder you were experiencing. I had forgotten that children do things on their own timelines and you reminded me that yours was unique.

The tale of your first steps is a classic example of this. You stubbornly insisted that you simply were not interested in walking. Why walk when you could ride or be carried? As the months dragged on, and all of us saw the strength improving in our arm muscles, you played it oh so coyly. At a doctor's appointment sometime after your eighteen-month milestone, your parents told the doctor of their concerns that you still refused to walk. The doctor asked for a demonstration and they put you down in the middle of the floor. With only a gleam that a toddler could summon, you made every adult in that room look stupid when you walked nonchalantly over to Mommy. And then...you didn't walk again for over a month. A unique timeline, indeed. 

I loathe the word stubborn, especially when applied to girls. It makes us seem negative or nasty. I much prefer dogged, resolute, adamant, or persistent. You definitely are coming into your own in this way. You will not be pushed around by anyone, especially your big sister. You know what you want and are determined to voice your opinion with a loud and definite "NO". It is important to know what you want and how to get it. Tenaciousness will serve you well and soon, you will figure out how to further your goals with the art of debate. (Although, it seems like you are well on your way to that end.) Keep pushing, Talia. This world needs more direct and confident women.

Stay curious. This is the time when everything seems new and shiny. Delight in your accomplishments. I love that you already know all of your letters, colours, and animals. How did that happen? Nobody seems to know exactly, except that you seem to be a quiet sponge, listening and absorbing. It is all so very matter-of-fact. When asked what letter that is, you look at us as if we are from another planet. "Of course, it's a K. Don't you know?" Never let anyone define your intellect. It is ok to be smart and to show it. The only limitations will be those you put on yourself. I want you to know that you can do whatever you want. Girls are good at math. Girls are good at reading. Girls are good at science. Girls can like Barbie and baseball. Girls can rock and girls can argue. There is no such thing as being "ladylike". Get out there and kick ass when warranted and listen when necessary. Everything is in front of you.

And I want to be there to watch it all. I want to sing with you, dance with you, read with you, eat junk food with you, and play with you. I want to be able to answer your questions, calm your nerves, dry your tears, and provide what little wisdom I possess. I want you to know your history, your faith, your family, and your heritage. I want to give you the moon, but I will be satisfied to bequeath the stories. You are my heart, my love, my whole being. 

I rarely do this, but I am going to share with you a song that I love. It is sung by Lee Ann Womack and I hope that when you hear it, sometime in the future, you will know that Bubby was singing it to you.

I hope you never lose your sense of wonder,
You get your fill to eat but always keep that hunger,
May you never take one single breath for granted,
God forbid love ever leave you empty-handed,
I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean,
Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens,
Promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance,
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance.

I hope you dance... I hope you dance...

I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance,
Never settle for the path of least resistance,
Livin' might mean takin' chances, but they're worth takin',
Lovin' might be a mistake, but it's worth makin',
Don't let some Hellbent heart leave you bitter,
When you come close to sellin' out reconsider,
Give the heavens above more than just a passing glance,
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance.

I hope you dance... I hope you dance.
I hope you dance... I hope you dance.
(Time is a wheel in constant motion always rolling us along,
Tell me who wants to look back on their years
And wonder where those years have gone.)

I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean,
Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens,
Promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance,
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance.

Dance... I hope you dance.
I hope you dance... I hope you dance.
I hope you dance... I hope you dance.
(Time is a wheel in constant motion always rolling us along,
Tell me who wants to look back on their years
And wonder where those years have gone.)

Happy Birthday, Dearest Talia.

May today and all days be wondrous and special.

Much love, always

Bubby

To Molly As She Celebrates Five

Dearest Molly,

I had a conversation with your mom yesterday when I remarked that not only am I having trouble believing that you are five, but I am also having issues with how quickly five years have passed. The passage of time is a strange thing. For grown-ups, it races by very quickly. We lament how we were stressing about school one day, and in what feels like a blink of an eye, we are waving to our grandchildren as they embark on their scholastic careers. We, adults, are filled with nostalgia, and the future seems like it could very well be an unfulfilled promise. We inherently understand the bargain. We get to revel in our grandchildren and their growth, only to know that time is limited. We won't get to bear witness to the completed product. We get tantalizing glimpses of who you are and who you are becoming, but we can only imagine the entirety. If this sounds slightly maudlin, it isn't meant to be. Over the past three years, I have come to realize that time is among the only treasures that we can't replicate. We can't get back that which we have wasted. As we were all forced to separate for reasons of health, I am not certain that we fully understood the deeper consequences of our sequestration. Not being together challenged our patience, our norms, and our trust. We have seen children who are fearful of new situations and people, and we have seen older folks who still refuse to engage in their social circles for fear of illness. There are no easy answers to regain a modicum of what was lost, but moving forward we need to push ourselves to be with people again. 

You, my darling, don't seem to have any trouble engaging with people. You love being with children and you chat up new folks so easily. We joke that you are so comfortable with people that someday you will probably give some stranger your parents' pin numbers and alarm codes. I think that every single cast member at Disney World had an in-depth conversation with you. I especially loved how you and Merida compared red hair. We are working on teaching you the meaning of the word circumspect. There is an unguardedness to you that is just so pure I wish we could bottle it. There is also your innate strong-willed nature that I am certain your mom would love to see tempered. While it isn't always easy to back down from what you want, the balance between compromise and doggedness will serve you well in the long term, even if Mom doesn't think so right now. And while you are ready and willing to try most things, I am most impressed by your cautiousness. There is an internal understanding that not everything is easy. Some things require work, hard work. At five you seem to get that. I saw it in the pool down in Florida. You want to swim but you know instinctively that it isn't easy. You worked hard to overcome those trepidations and have moved forward in your learning. I am so proud of how you tackled your apprehension. And...now you know just how much fun the water can be.

Molly, as you enter into the second half of your first decade, I want to impart a bit of wisdom that I have learned as I enter into my seventh. It may not be right for everybody, but I think it will serve you well as you become more involved outside of your family unit and in the general community at large. The world is a big and fascinating place and learning to navigate it well is challenging. Let's call these nuggets Bubby's Bites.

Be Kind-Not everybody is and it is my feeling that many people have forgotten how to interact with others. Treat people with respect, dignity, and kindness and they will return the favour. This includes the person who might be holding up the line at the grocery store, the harried clerk, or your sister. Impart kindness and you will be rewarded tenfold.

Be Cautious-Always be aware of your surroundings. 

Be Prepared-Do your homework and always be ready with the answers when asked. Never go into a situation without knowing all of the permutations, and try not to "wing it". If you are prepared for what is coming, you won't be caught or embarrassed.

Be Organized-Make sure that you know where things are and can find them when asked. Somewhere down the road, you will be asked to organize your time as well. Learn how to balance things now. The lessons are much harder later.

Be On Time-Punctuality is a sign of respect. It is important to show other people that their time matters as much as yours.

Be Adventurous-Try new things and never stop learning. Do you want to learn music or an instrument? Make it happen. Do you want to rock-climb? Go for it. The whole world is out there. Do whatever interests you. 

Be Lazy-Laziness is highly underrated. Spend a day in your pyjamas without guilt. Watch tv and eat some junk food. Just don't let laziness become your norm.

Be Healthy-Some of this is obviously out of our control but learn the habits early. I wish that I started exercising long before I actually did. It is much easier to learn to take care of our bodies when we are young. That said, don't obsess over any of it. Just do what is fun. Go for a walk or a scooter ride, or get outside in the fresh air at the playground. Get enough sleep and don't stress too much. Take care of you.

Be Interested-Listening is a difficult skill to learn, but if you do it right other people will know that you care about them. Being interested in what other people like is a way of telling them that you enjoy them and want to be around them. Being interested and curious is how we learn.

Be Tolerant-Not everybody is just like you. People are different and that is what makes them interesting. Just because they don't like what you like, doesn't make them less than you. Accept people for who they are and what they are. 

Be Good To Family-Family is an odd creature. We love them with all of our hearts and souls and yet, sometimes, we really want to stick a fork in some of their eyes. The thing is, they love you unconditionally. Don't forget that when the chips are down, family is what will hold you together.

Be Happy-Sometimes, it is really easy to fall into the trap of staying miserable. We can't be happy all the time and sadness is a part of life. But, striving for happiness makes our journey a whole lot easier. Try and find the joy in whatever you are doing and if it doesn't bring you satisfaction, move on. Life is far too short to be weighed down by toxicity or ugliness.

That's enough for any five-year-old to get a good headstart. If the Divine Spirit is willing, there will be a whole lot more of these Bubby Bites. I can't wait to walk hand in hand with you as you discover all that your life has to offer. In the meantime, I will content myself with your giggles, silliness, seriousness, a few games of Candy Land, some more Paw Patrol builds, a few more challah bakes, a lot more songs, tons more family time, and an infinite amount of hugs and kisses. 

Happy Birthday, my darling girl. Enjoy it all and may you stay as fiery as your hair.

I love you forever and day,

Love,

Bubby

A Letter To Talia On Her First Birthday

Dearest Talia,

I have started and erased this letter so many times now. I have committed to writing to you and your sister on birthdays, and I have been successful. I haven't missed one yet. But, for some reason, this year has felt different, and the writing hasn't come with ease. Perhaps it is because the world around us feels very broken, and I want these letters to have a modicum of hope. The generations in front of you have certainly messed things up with great flair, but I need to believe that there is a phoenix in the embers of our collective pyre that will rise with you and the promise you hold.

I think there is another reason that writing this year's letter has been far more arduous. Milestone birthdays can be really joyous, as is this your first. This past year has been filled with touchstones for you; your first smile, your first giggle, your first strawberry, your first babble. Each one is a barometer of your growth and a measure of the person you are becoming. I simply melt while watching the gleam you get in those big blue eyes when Molly comes to play with you. I love watching your curiosity spark while trying to figure out a new toy. I adore that you growl like a baby raptor when you are "hangry."  I am amazed at how you eat anything and everything, and you never seem to be sated. Seriously. Where does it all go? So much food in such a tiny human. Milestones. Each and every one of these deserves commemoration. There are so many more to come, and I can't wait to cheer them all. Turning one is a tremendous milestone. May it be the first of many. 

But, milestones can also be a time of reflection and contemplation. As it happens, I, too, am celebrating a milestone birthday this year. Last week, I had a conversation with someone dear to me. This person was incredulous at the idea that turning sixty might bother me. I explained that while I am not upset at the thought of getting older, this particular birthday feels different to me than previous "big ones." It somehow seems more ominous and finite. Now, don't misunderstand. My health is good, and I am not complaining, except for the various minor aches and pains that seem to be on permanent rotation through my body. I am forever looking in a mirror and seeing new lines and creases that didn't seem to exist yesterday. And while these don't perturb me all that much, they are a tangible sign of aging. Aging for a one-year-old is the excitement of impending first steps. Aging for a sixty-year-old is the realization that changes can be ominous. I'm taking a few more medications and sleeping far fewer hours. I have parents who require more assistance and children who need less. 

But, if the pandemic and its inherent isolation have taught me anything, it is that we should celebrate whenever we get the chance. So, I look forward to turning sixty with a bit of trepidation and a whole lot of excitement. I will never forget that I've been blessed with the presence of both of my parents well into their golden years and that they, in turn, have been blessed to know their great-grandchildren. I have a partner who adores me, and even though you might have suspicions about him, your Zaidy is the best. My sons are good men, and they love their families. Positive male role models are at a premium these days. Your daddy, your uncles, and your grandfathers are genuinely five-star. Look to them when men confuse you. Your mommy has become my daughter in all ways. She will be your rock, and, if you allow her, your confidant. Finally, your sister reminded me that teaching and bequeathing are sacred responsibilities. She is blazing the trail for you. She is your best friend and your best teacher. The two of you are my everything. My milestone birthday may be a bit more daunting than yours, but I never lose sight that I am grateful to be celebrating it. So, cupcakes for everybody.

Talia, you have much learning and growing to do. I am so excited to watch you unfold. Your name comes from Hebrew, which means "dew from heaven," and that is precisely what you are. You have been a bit of "mayim chayim," water of life, to all of us this year. While the world around you has been a bit chaotic, you have been the calming influence. You observe before you react. You study and then decide. You speak with authority even though you are speaking your own language. You are gradually finding your place in this crazy family. I have a sneaking suspicion that it won't be at the back of the line. 

Happy First Birthday, נכדתי היקרה, mi nieta, my darling granddaughter. You are a milestone. May the coming year bring you health, joy, excitement, wonder, and peace. Learn, grow, be strong, be wise, and be happy. I love you with all of my being.

Love,

Bubby

My First Letter to Talia

My dearest Talia,

I started writing these letters shortly after Molly was born. I wanted to record my feelings of joy, excitement, pain, sorrow, trepidation, and mostly the immense pride that I felt watching my grandchild make her way into the world. The letters evolved into birthday missives that I plan on continuing for as long as I am able. I realized that as much as I was writing these for her, I was also writing them for me. I wanted her to have a tangible record of what her grandmother was feeling, hoping, and praying for during a specific moment in time that coincided with her growing up. You can call it my slightly self-centred gift to my granddaughter. It is really easy to get caught up and bogged down in the little things that happen every day. I wanted to zoom out a bit and focus on the big picture of what I feel is important and how that might impact the lives of my children and grandchildren.

Talia, it is now your turn to receive your very first letter from Bubby on your one-week birthday. I will admit that I wasn't quite ready to write this post. I thought that I'd have a few more weeks. You were obviously very anxious to make your world debut. The rapidity and punctuality with which you made your entrance made me hopeful for the future. Sometimes, just showing up on time is half the battle with much of what we have to deal with in our lives. We show others how much we care about them, their time, their efforts, and their experiences when we are prompt. It is a sign of great respect to be timely. You taught us all a great lesson this week. We have been living in an era where the passage of time seems to have lost its relevance. You reminded me that it still matters.

We are living in the most uncertain period of my lifetime. You are being born into a world that is currently being ravaged by disease, a climate apocalypse, and an acute lack of intellectualism. There is simply no communal trust in expertise anymore. Everybody is an authority on everything. A logical and unheated conversation about practically anything is almost impossible these days. We have untethered ourselves as a world community from a central and agreeable set of facts. We have spent the past eighteen months bathing in our own emotional wastelands and have forgotten how to interact with one another outside of a few meaningless posts on social media. Everybody is exhausted and so many are angry. It would be easy to just give up and pretend that nihilism rules. But, I refuse to do that. I will go down swinging working for and in defense of a productive and healthy future for you. You and your sister matter so much to me that the idea of conceding defeat to a bunch of intellectually corrupted twatwaffles is anathema. Education matters. Integrity matters. A strong moral code matters. Science matters. Collective responsibility matters. Family matters. The world is very messed up right now but when I look at you, I see hope. I think about what you can accomplish. You have the potential to see and create the next century. As long as I have the ability, I will move heaven and earth to defeat those forces that want to make that path difficult for you to traverse. There will always be people who want to delay and obstruct progress. There will always be people that care more for their own power and bank accounts than they do for society at large. I look at you and I offer you a solemn vow that I will do what I can to move these people out of the way so that you and your generation can fulfill the promise of better days. I swear that I will make you proud.

The name you carry is one of strength. I wish you could have known your great-grandmother Temmy. We lost her less than a year ago and I know that she would have loved you with all of her heart. She was proud, stubborn to a fault, difficult at times, and one of the strongest women I have ever met. She didn't have an easy life. Her physical challenges and her emotional baggage could be exhausting at times but she never ever gave up. She was a fighter until the very end. She desperately loved her family and she supported all of our decisions unfailingly, even if she didn't agree with them. This past year has been very difficult on your Zaidy. Losing her in the middle of the pandemic without a proper ability to grieve has been unbelievably miserable. You are her direct legacy. Always wear your name with pride and know that the person from whom it comes was a true Eyshet Chail, a woman of immense valour. 

I need you to know that your parents are two of the finest people I know. I realize that I speak from a place of extreme bias but I'm pretty sure that many others would agree with me. They care so much about so many and are doing whatever they can to make your's and your sister's lives easy, comfortable, and safe. I wanted to give them this shout-out because I am not certain as to when you might read this and I know that there will be times ahead when you will vehemently disagree, argue, and test their limits. You need to know that they love you unconditionally and that they will never stop communicating with you even if they are angry. It is the first rule of family. Never stop talking even when they make you crazy. And if you ever just need someone else to listen to you or a shoulder to cry on in times of difficulty, you can know with certainty that I will be that person. I can't promise that I will always agree with you but I will always hear you out. Beware. I am an opinionated bitch but we tough women need to stick together.

You have the great good fortune of having a ready-made best friend here waiting for you. Molly is so excited that you've finally arrived. She has broken in your parents for you and has made these initial days and months a bit easier by equipping them with the needed parenting skills. If you two play your cards right, she will be your playmate, confidant, co-conspirator, comrade-in-arms, and a sidekick for the rest of your lives. A sibling is the person who knows you from childhood through adolescence to adulthood. They are the ones who know you best throughout your entire life. No parent, friend, or spouse can ever know you as intimately or deeply as a sibling. Be there for her and she will reciprocate in kind.

Here are a few early lessons that are moral imperatives. 

1. Never dismiss any kind of music without thoroughly listening to it. That said, autotuning is for the lazy musician.

2. Always dance like you don't care who is watching.

3. Eat for fun and nutrition. One without the other really sucks.

4. Be comfortable in your clothing. 

5. Treat the earth with care.

6. Be a rule follower and a rule breaker and understand the difference. 

7. Love animals.

8. Add colour to everything.

These first few months and years will be exciting. We will discover all that you are and will learn about who you are meant to become. I will attempt to curb my judgemental tendencies and give you the space you need to grow and develop organically. You are blessed with terrific role models. Ask them for advice, watch what they do, and then formulate your own decisions. Mistakes are ok. Just remember to be empathetic, sympathetic, attentive, curious, and just stubborn enough, but with the ability to admit fault when needed. I have never felt such peace as when I looked upon your face for the first time. For the first time in almost two years, I have hope again. I won't ever take that for granted.

In Judaism, we believe in L'dor Vador, that in every generation we must teach our children and carry on our heritage and faith. Never be ashamed of who you are. We are a resilient people.

I love you to the moon and back, Talia. May this first year bring us only good things. 

Kein y'hi ratzon. May this be God's will.

Love, 

Bubby

A Letter to Molly on Her Second Birthday

My Dearest Molly,

It is unbelievable to me that I am writing the third of these now annual missives. I know that the racing passage of time that I experience is still beyond your two-year-old intellect. You measure your days in terms of how many sleeps are left until a special occasion. I, on the other hand, watch the galloping by of the calendar with a poignancy that, on occasion, leaves me breathless. I want to imprint every single moment that we spend together into a cerebral scrapbook that can be replayed forever on a loop in my aging grey matter.

The pain that I feel in knowing that your second birthday is being celebrated at a distance from everybody except Mom, Dad, and Gus is acute, but then I remember how much your mom loves to make birthdays extraordinarily special and I have no doubt that your celebration will be exactly as it should be. I ache to hug you, dear one. I desperately want to be there to play with you and to read all of your new books together. I wish that we could share in your cake and get messy eating chocolate together. I want to kiss your cheeks and taste the ice cream remnants. But, sadly, that cannot be this year. The best and most loving thing that all of us can do in these difficult times, is to stay away from each other. It runs counter to everything that we want and that we understand about loving families, but it will keep us well and in each other's lives for many more birthdays to come. The thing that gives me great peace is knowing that you will remember very little from these miserable months and that it will be nothing more than a page in the history book for you.

I have marvelled at the independent human you are evolving into. Your parents might argue that you are stubborn but I prefer the term tenacious. You have very definite likes and dislikes and you have no trouble making them known to everybody. I love that even at two and with a still limited vocabulary, you are making yourself heard. Yes, there are moments of temper and yes, there are moments of needed time-outs but you are learning to use your strengths to the greatest of advantages. You can be polite, giving, sharing, and still strong and self-determining. You are learning to advocate for yourself and I love your fierceness.

Your independence has never been more on display than when you are at your childcare program. When you first started, you were the youngest in the class but after a split second of normal toddler hesitancy, you ran in and embraced the entire experience. There are days when you are so excited to be there, that you don't even notice we've left. There is so much in the world that you have yet to experience but you don't yet seem fazed by anything new coming your way. There is so much yet for you to discover and I can't wait to see it unfold.

I know that you won't remember the incredible week we spent together in Florida in February, just you, Zaidy, and me, the three of us beach walking, playgrounding, and swimming in the Miami sun. It seems so very far in the past and yet it was only weeks ago. It was a time when we three developed a routine and bond that was all our own, without Mom and Dad. We became intertwined with each other through meals, bedtime rituals, songs, and Coco. Camp Bubby/Zaidy was an early highlight of this year and now I am concerned that it has faded so deep into our collective recesses because of everything else around us. I want you to remember snuggling to House at Pooh Corner and singing Let it Go loudly with Elsa. I long to return to the boats you so ardently begged to see every day. I want to relive you going down the slide all by yourself with a smile so proud and broad. I love that you now have names for us and I worry that our newly adopted social distancing lifestyle will somehow change this still tenuous reality. If I forever remind you of that special week, even into your thirties, it is because it was so important and special to us. You can yell at me, roll your eyes and say, "Holy crap, Bubby...Again!" And I will wistfully smile disappear into my old lady haze and respond, "Yes, Molly. Again and again and again."

I miss my kids. It has been too long since we were all together as a family. Months. Pesach, which is a family time, is disappearing into the pandemic ether this year. I believe that we Jews often judge the passage of time, not by birthdays or New Years, but rather what has occurred in our lives and families from one Pesach to the next. I look at photos from only a few years back and see beloved family members who are no longer with us. Two seders ago, you were days from being born. This Pesach there are two new wee cousins that we still will not be able to meet in person. The emotions being stirred within me are bordering on painful and are visceral. I can't change the reality of the outside world but I won't deny my sadness at not being able to watch you wrinkle your nose at the taste of the maror or of missing the excitement that you will absolutely feel searching for and finding, the afikomen. The logical part of me is saying it has to be this way, but the emotional part of me is mourning this loss. No amount of Zoom time or online gathering can replace what is now forever forfeited and gone. I don't want to belabour this deprivation too much but I believe that we should at least, acknowledge it. Hopefully, next Pesach will bring us that family time that we all so desperately need.

There is so much good coming your way, my Molly. So many new things to learn, so many exciting things to experience. You can already count to ten and can recite most of the alphabet. Reading and storytelling is your passion and there are not enough words to convey my joy at this. You love to laugh and you love to sing, although the lyrics aren't really your strong suit...yet. You love to dance to the Wiggles and giggle with Gus. You are busy and in constant motion and watching or participating in your energy can be dizzying and exciting. This coming year will bring changes, as always, but hopefully only positive things and new passions. I want to cook with you, bake cookies with you, watch you grow into new activities, and learning opportunities. I want to teach you about Broadway and baseball and maybe even a few guitar chords.

I love you beyond the words and confines of this letter.

To the moon and back, my dear one.

Happy Birthday. As you have said many times over the last few weeks, you are indeed two and that is everything.

Love,

Bubby

Musings From Isolation-Day 4

Day 4

I miss my kids.

I know that many of you who live great distances from family can understand my longing. Facetime is a nice compromise but nothing, and I mean absolutely nothing can replace a hug. We haven't seen Older Son in person since November and it's been over a month for Younger Son, His Beshert, and the Grandbaby. 

I miss my kids.

Molly is just starting to become a real character who, not only knows us but asks for us by name. To not be able to visit with and hug the stuffing out of that little human right now is excruciatingly difficult.

Especially now.

Now when we need human contact more than ever, we are told to be distant. Now when we need to hug each other so hard it feels like we might suffocate, we are told to stay away. It is almost unbearable to think that the best and safest thing we parents and grandparents can do for our families right now is to stay away from them, to not touch them, to not offer in-person help and comfort. 

But...stay away we will, for their sake as well as ours. For their health as well as ours. For their futures and our continued presence in each other's lives. We will stay at home. 

But...

I miss my kids.

A few random thoughts.

My hair is longer right now than it has been at any time since the 1970s. I have been mostly tying it up but I feel that I am far too old to be wearing a ponytail. I may end up looking like a Sonny-era Cher by the time this is all over.

I have been restricting most sugar and carbs for almost a year but I unabashedly dove into an unopened bag of black licorice last night. As that wonderful philosopher John Prine once said, "Father forgive us for what we must do." By the way...it was delicious and so needed. Everybody give yourself a break on food right now. Eat mostly healthy, but a little chocolate couldn't hurt.

A bit of anger welled up in me today when I saw that EB Games here in Toronto is opening several of their stores in order to release a new video game. Really??? What the actual fuck? Young gamers are lined up by the hundreds to get games that they pre-ordered. You'd think this company could have found an alternate method of delivery? Hey, young bros. STAY THE FUCK HOME! It's a fucking game, not the cure for COVID-19!  I'm hoping that the city ends this nonsense and soon.

Today's music break is me, long hair and all. Don't feel obligated to listen. I recorded this for Molly. It is our bedtime song. It isn't the best I've ever played or sounded but it matters a lot to me.


Wash your hands, don't touch your face, be kind, stay healthy.

Shabbat Shalom for all who observe.

My Annual Letter

Dearest Molly,

Last year, a few months after your "birthday", I wrote you a letter. I am embarrassed to say that it took me almost two months after you made your entrance into this world to collect my thoughts. Chalk it up to emotional upheaval on my part. I simply couldn't give a proper voice to everything magnificent about your arrival. But, write to you I did and that first missive has led me to this one on this your first birthday.

Meeting you has been one of the purest and greatest joys of my life. I thank the Divine Spirit every single day for the gifts you have brought into my orbit. I don't want to place a hefty burden onto your tiny shoulders but seeing the world through your eyes and imagining the future that you will live in, has brought my life into clear focus. It is easy at my age to live selfishly and insularly. We budding alterkakkers sometimes tend to look at forecasts and predictions as mere inconveniences. We pretend that since we will play little to no part in the world that you will surely inherit, the decisions we make today on your behalf have little consequence. Of course, that is a fallacy but the environment we find ourselves in on this your first birthday is riddled with such short-sightedness. I am trying desperately to move beyond such nonsense with you squarely in my thoughts. It is my hope that one of my longterm gifts to you will be one of engagement, involvement, taking up the cause of the underdog, the downtrodden, and care for the planet.

Today, however, I want to give you something far more basic. I want to give you the gift of memory. I want you to be reminded of the joys of your first year. I know that those reminiscences will be shaped entirely by other people's stories, so I wanted you to have some of mine.

I was mesmerized by the attention you paid to our first songs together. When I sang those early melodies to you, the very same my father sang to me, you were completely engaged. You could hardly keep your eyes open, yet you knew instinctively to follow my voice. Maybe, someday you and I can sing Stewball or House at Pooh Corner together just like I did with your dad and mine.

I love the way that you love Gus. Even when he hasn't always been entirely sure about what to make of you, you have been relentless in your pursuit of his affection and his playtime. I hope that you and Gus have many more years together so that you can remember what an exceptional friend he is and how having such a great dog as your introduction to pets has been truly magical. Gus is teaching you about fun, patience, unconditional love, gentility, and sometimes (when you deem it to be so)...sharing. Gus is finally finding his footing with you and he is thrilled with the extra meals you are sending his way. Gus is your first best friend.

I adore that you have a bit of a dramatic flair. I know that your parents will roll their eyes when they read this but there is something incredibly creative about the way you express yourself. Yes, there will come a time when some self-control will need to be exercised and you will soon learn the limits of your expressive outbursts, but I hope that when those lessons are learned you will still know how to advocate for yourself with passion and with strength.

I will forever be moved by the memory of your great-grandfather getting down on the floor in his eighty-first year, to play with you. Your exuberance has been contagious and having great-grandparents around to share in your growth and experiences have been nothing short of magnificent.  The generational nature of your arrival has not been lost on me at all.

I love watching your Zaidy light up in your presence. There is so much that is serious in his world but with you, he is in total fun mode. It doesn't matter what he is doing or thinking about. Whenever he sees you, you become the entirety of his world. There is nothing too much, too complicated, too expensive, or too involved for him when it comes to you.

Every milestone, every new "trick", every photo, every new experience, every family gathering this year has served as a reminder that I am in this for you. I want to see the world through your eyes and to understand what the planet will be like for you when you are my age and beyond. It is not inconceivable that you could live to see the next century and that informs my thoughts and decisions all the time. Sometimes, I find myself looking ahead and wondering what you will be like in five, ten, fifteen years but then I pull back and remind myself to live in the here and now and to enjoy watching the mystery of you unfold in real time. It is an extraordinary and magnificent journey and I will joyously breathe it all in every single day I am afforded.

I love you with all my being, dear Molly.

Happy Birthday. Let's meet here again one year from today. I'm sure that year two will provide much fodder.

Love,

Bubby

A Letter

Dearest Molly,

I have been wanting to write something to you almost since the moment of your appearance in this world but well...life and its shackled looniness has simply gotten in my way. I hope that by the time you are old enough to understand this missive, much of my bitching and moaning about the stuff contained herein will have mercifully vanished out of our public consciousness and will no longer be problems for you and your contemporaries. I hope that one day, you and I will be able to sit together and read this drivel and laugh raucously over what was, what is, and what we hope will be.

A few ground rules for reading this piece. Yes...your grandmother uses foul language and does so liberally throughout this piece. She has since long before your father was even a kernel of a spark in her eye. Many people will tell you that cursing is a sign of an unimaginative mind and a lazy speaker. I sharply disagree. I am a believer that sometimes, only certain words can adequately express emotion. Don't let anybody ever distract you from the true meaning of a curse. While I am not of a mind that we should be dropping f-bombs at will in any and all settings, sometimes the reclaiming of language empowers us and gives colour and texture to our extreme feelings. Words always matter and I will not be censored because somebody else might be offended by my language. And anyway, I'm fairly certain that while I have been saddled with more than a few pejoratives by others in attempting to describe my nature, unimaginative and lazy of speech were never amongst them.

I also hope that while reading this you will understand the pain, anger, and anguish I am feeling at this particular moment. I hope and pray that you never, ever see this side of me but when there is pure evil in the world, I tend to get bilious and pissed off. 

You, my darling granddaughter, are my greatest hope for the future. In your beautiful hazel eyes, I see nothing but optimism and potential. Your gaze transfixes me and displays such trust and love. We can talk in cliches for hours about how it is all ahead of you and how you can be anything you want to be, and my God I hope all of that is true, but I think that being born at this crisis point in history means you will have to shoulder so much more and for that I am profoundly sorry.

Yours will be the first generation with both feet firmly planted in the information age. While your parents and grandparents are still desperately flailing and failing badly at navigating through the sludge and the shit, I have some measure of confidence that you and your friends will someday have it all figured out. It still galls me that the internet, which holds the keys to so much advancement and connection, is also the place where racism, misogyny, hate, ignorance, and intolerance festers. The weaponization of information to further the evil and self-serving agendas of demagogues, false prophets, greedy oligarchs, and tyrants is one of the greatest miseries ever unleashed on the citizens of this planet. Where once in bygone times, dictators and despots used armies of iron and machinery, today's martinets use bits, bytes, and pixels. Dear one. Never let yourself be manipulated by mindless propaganda. Always demand to see the truth and never accept the word of any leader from any side of the ideological spectrum who purposefully hides his or her plans from the disinfectant of sunlight. Always, always, always ask the tough questions and never, never, never accept the easy answers even if they suit your personal philosophies.

It is very easy for people to get caught up in their own lives and to forget that there are others in the world just trying to find a better place for themselves. Generational poverty and living in constant danger make desperate people even more desperate. You, my love, have been born into tremendous privilege. You live in a country that, while far from perfect, provides you with unparalleled advantages. But just because you were bequeathed a life that offers so many avenues, doesn't mean that others less fortunate than you shouldn't be able to aspire to what you have. Human suffering is an issue that has bedevilled humankind for millennia but we can be and should always be mindful of those assholes who look down on other human beings simply because of where they come from, the colour of their skin, who they happen to love, or the gods to whom they pray. Worse still, we need to muzzle and ostracize those colossal bastards who gleefully use their perches of power and authority to further their evil agendas of hate and division.

Beware of the narcissist and those seeking self-aggrandizement. Align yourself with those who use their skills and their fortunes to help others rise out of the depths. The best people in this world are often those who work in complete anonymity.

You have been born into a community with a rich and tremendous history. Being a Jew is something of which I have always been extraordinarily proud but I have never used it to justify my bad behaviour. We Jews have certainly had our share of misery and suffering but we should never use our perch of privilege to further advance the suffering of others. We are a people that have been bequeathed a strong social justice streak that has its roots in Tanach. (Sometimes called the Old Testament.) Always beware of people who quote Scripture in order to further their intentions of evil. When that happens, try a few of these verses on them.

“Thus says God: Do justice and righteousness, and deliver from the hand of the oppressor him who has been robbed. And do no wrong or violence to the resident alien, the orphan, and the widow, nor shed innocent blood in this place.” Jeremiah 22:3

“Open your mouth for the mute, for the rights of all who are destitute. Open your mouth, judge righteously, defend the rights of the poor and needy.” Proverbs 31:8-9

“Give justice to the weak and the orphan; maintain the right of the afflicted and the destitute.” Psalm 82:3

“Learn to do good; seek justice, correct oppression; bring justice to the orphan, plead the widow’s cause.” Isaiah 1:17

People who think that they are holier than you, generally aren't. I have no idea what you will someday think of religion, God, or even of being born Jewish, but I hope you know that people who spout their Judaism as a reason for their bigotry and hatred probably missed more than a few religious school classes. Every Shabbat morning, I read the following passage based on Mishnah Peah 1:1:

These are the Things that are limitless,of which a person enjoys the fruit of the world,while the principal remains in the world to come.They are: honouring one's father and mother,engaging in deeds of compassion,arriving early for study, morning and evening,dealing graciously with guests, visiting the sick,providing for the wedding couple,accompanying the dead for burial,being devoted in prayer, and making peace among among people,But the study of Torah encompasses them all.

It seems simple, and the Torah part may seem archaic to a modern girl like you, but sometimes our humanity is found in our ability to reduce caring and kindness to the lowest common denominator. Sometimes, showing up for others is all that matters. Never forget that we Jews were once the "other". 

You have been born into a time when women have options. I have no doubt that you will be raised to show your strength and to follow your passions but there are still a few out there who think that you are lesser simply because of your XX chromosomes. There are still some people who believe that you shouldn't have agency over your own body or that you owe them sex. Feminist is not an angry nor a foul word. It simply means that we women want to be treated as equals in all realms of society. Own the word and live by its ideals.

There is so much misery happening right now that I can't believe it is real. Knowing that there are children out there, some who are as young as you are, who have been separated from their parents for reasons of politics...well it has kept me up nights. I hear their screams in my semi-consciousness and I loathe the people who have put them there. I shriek FUCK YOU in shaking rage at the newspaper and at the TV on a regular basis. I ugly cry when I think of those parents who are desperate to find their children but may never be able to because of serious malpractice and indifference. I send prayers of thanks that my granddaughter knows the hugs and comfort of her parents when she cries from discomfort or is frightened. There is an entire cohort of children who will be forever scarred by this evil and dastardly sack of shit. Given the lessons of history that I thought we had learned, I never thought or believed that I would see a modern, western society do this to needy people in my lifetime, but here we are.

I resolve for your sake to never give up fighting the righteous fight. I resolve for your sake to call out the bastards' bullshit every single time I hear it or see it. I resolve for your sake to never shrink from calling out the enablers and the sycophants, even if they are friends and family. I resolve for your sake to be engaged in the fight and not on the sidelines when evil is invoked. I resolve for your sake to be on the right side of history.

You, Molly, deserve nothing less.

Love,

Bubby