October 2016 Reverb // Ghosts of October Past:
The trees are dying and so are you. We want to know what you plan to do with your remaining years. In the alternate, tell us about your favorite dead relative.
Although I have struggled with words for some of the latest Reverbs, this one caught me. Initially I didn’t want to post anything; I’ve already shared about my mom and I felt like the post was too much at this time.
But then I considered my remaining years. And how lucky I am that I have such strong and meaningful memories with my own family. My biggest hope, beyond wealth and fame, would be that I can impact my daughter the way that my mom and family impacted me.
Skip the long elaborate vacations (although I certainly hope we can do these too), but short weekend escapes, just us. Leave the phones, grab the camera, and go for a walk on the beach together. Let Knish search for seashells and try to race the waves. Let her eat salt water taffy until she can’t even look at a vegetable. Spend maybe a night or two. Then home again, home again, jiggity jig.
I want to teach Knish how to cook. Jews celebrate with food and wine. Food is both cultural and spiritual; secular and religious. Each holiday has a corresponding menu, like Thanksgiving. For American Jews, the fall season means matzo balls for High Holy Days as much as it means pumpkin spice. Winter means latkes and the lingering smell of stale grease, as much as candy canes and cookies. And Spring brings matzo and special candy instead of Easter’s own special candy. And now that Knish is almost one (!!!!!), she is eating and I am so excited to share all of the seasons with her.
I want to be in pictures that aren’t selfies with her. I want her to know love and joy and comfort. And to give all of this to her, I also hope to find peace with myself.
I will not magically become a morning person. Or a different dress size. I will not become tremendously more patient or extroverted. Play dates and PTA will never be easy for me. I can improve all of these with self-care in my remaining days, but I can’t change who I am. By accepting myself, I hope that would make me a better mom (and wife and sister and friend). I can’t be there for her, if I’m not here for myself, as well.
This is my bucket list. Not marked by specific goals to tick off. But an intangible warmth that I hope to impart to my family and myself.