The way my mom used to ask me to describe to her what kind of experience I had, a trip or anything was like this:
"So you opened your eyes in the morning and then ...?" Or "So you got on the bus and then ...?"
As her youngest daughter, every stage I went through in my life symbolized for my mother the end of this stage in her mothers as well. And that was no mean feat. I remember my first day in first grade, I walked hand in hand with Mom we had some time of the two of us, we sat on a bench near the school and I remember Mom's excitement, she was with a tear in her eye and a huge smile. Mom tried to explain to me that this is it, there is no more garden in our house .. and what excitement it is to start a new beginning, a new stage in life.
I did not seem to understand her so well then, but I felt the warmth and experience of our time together.
In the Gulf War and in general during the holidays, I remember the hours when my mother would study with us or teach us a special canon, song or work. Always with some pampering on the side. Or while cuddling in bed with her.
I had a regular magic hour with Mom, every Saturday morning Mom and I would meet for coffee and crisps or chocolate and cake, and that was the time when I could talk to her about just about anything. From the trivial things that occupied me, the things of girls, to the affairs of the world. A time of relaxation and a pleasant connection.
Being a father's daughter was a kind of commitment. Dad had a sense of humor that made me very funny. Sometimes it took me a while to figure out, but when the token fell, I would roll with laughter for a long time.
Dad used to say a lot that he did not want me to leave the house and get married, because who would laugh at his jokes?
I also remember our weekly study time in the Book of Samuel, how I would enter his study room wrapped in books. And immediately feel the warmth and sweetness of studying with Dad. In the special time he devotes to me among all his important pursuits.
Every night before bed until I was really late I used to go to Dad and Mom for a goodnight kiss with "good nithe sweet dreams".
I remember Dad's kisses. On the one hand, a feeling of love and a hug, on the other hand, his old mustache stabbed. And Mom's kisses were like diving into something warm and sweet.
They had a very pampering way to make me happy and get close to me when I was not well, sometimes it was through a meeting around coffee and cake, sometimes a restaurant, or a beach. Sometimes just go for a ride in the car. And sing together Simon and Garfinal.
Somehow they managed to reach me in any situation in a different creative and pleasant way.
They also had a special talent for educating me or explaining things to me without me feeling for a second uncomfortable with who I was or with what I was doing.
Always with a broad view of the good and the right, with direction and guidance here and there.
Shulamit photo slideshow - you can scroll with the arrows on the photo