Dear Mrs. Bluth,
I just came home from celebrating a wonderful Shabbos weekend where all my adult children, fifteen grandchildren and four great-grands came together to surprise me for my eightieth birthday. It was the best birthday ever and the first simcha since my husband passed away from Covid. It was the first time I truly felt the joy of being alive and amongst my precious children and their families. And then I went ahead and opened up a ‘can of worms’ asking my grandchildren what they would like to get for Chanukah and was bombarded with requests that just didn’t register in my mind as gifts appropriate for kids below the age of twelve; video gaming consoles, I Phones, I pads and the older ones requests for outlandish things like skiing trips, chrome computers, hugely expensive electronics and designer label clothing. Witnessing my shock, my grown children (the parents) laughed off my dismay by saying I belong to the landline/beeper generation which makes me a relic in terms of how life has changed since they were children and I have lost touch with progress and what children of any age living in today’s world want and expect to receive so they can maintain their status amongst their friends.
How very sad, I thought, and reminded all my adult children of the beautiful Chanukah celebrations we shared when they were young, when my husband was alive and would hold court sitting in his big tufted chair summoning all his children and grandchildren to gather at his feet. All assembled with excitement and expectations of what their gifts would be. But first came the tutorial part of the adventure. My husband was a phenomenal storyteller and everyone sat silent and mesmerized as he verbally painted the picture of the miracle of Chanukah. From oldest to youngest everyone figuratively found themselves transported to the time of Yehudah HaMaccabee ad the Chashmonaim, the Romans who defiled the beautiful Bais HaMikdash and the miracle of the oil. After the story was told, my husband called each child and grandchild, from the youngest up to the oldest to come forward and he placed both of his hands on their head, blessing them with the strength and absolute faith in Hashem of the Maccabbees and the Jewish people during that terrible time under the rule of the Romans. He then gave each one a bright silver dollar and a special gift bought or especially made for each individual person.
Since his passing, I tried to the best of my limited ability to keep up our wonderful tradition by preparing the silver dollars and the gifts, from the first Chanukah he was absent, telling the story and doing all he did, but it seems I failed miserably. Each following year a bit more of the magic fell by the wayside, until all that was left of Chanukah was filling the various requests for gifts, some latkes and a peck on each cheek before their goodbyes. Last year was the worst Chanukah of all. Everyone was ready to leave before they even took their coats off, the oldest grandkids barely acknowledged me and two hours later after they did depart, I noticed that they had left the gifts I had given them hidden behind the sofa because they were not what they wanted.
I am not a youngster anymore, I still work part-time to subsidize my Social Security check and just make it paying my monthly bills. My heart breaks with the disappearance of ‘yesterday’ that seems to have vanished with my beloved husband. Is there any chance that there is something I can still do to salvage the love, unity and togetherness that has all but disappeared from my family?
Dear Friend,
Your sadness and loneliness is palpable and I can feel your anguish come through in each and every word. Many of us have reached an age when we feel unneeded, unheard and unimportant. We have become relics replaced by progress and the lust for all things electrical, in which we are for the most part, sorely lacking in how to navigate. Youngsters today are born with computer knowledge seemingly built into their chromosomes. Every day new electronics flood the marketplace and are advertised in every publication thus farther widening the divide between us and our tech-savvy grandchildren. Blame progress for some of it, but then be honest and take a closer look at what you have or haven’t done and can still do to bring about a turn around – sort of a back to the future if you will. Don’t stand on ceremony, you be the one to reach out and call your children and grandchildren, don’t wait for them to make the first move. Being regular about your calls will spur them to realize that you are interested in being a part of their lives and interests. In that way you will show them your love and that you can keep up with their adventures. Start making new family traditions that reflect their interests and they will come.
Instill in them the understanding that Bubbie is not just a dollar sign, the ‘old lady’ they can hit on for gifts or money and otherwise goes forgotten because she really doesn’t understand the world they live in. Show them that you were and still are young and vibrant and have so very much to share with them. If you make the effort and are consistent and regular in your desire to be close to them, the feeling will take hold and a new and different relationship will evolve and bring you closer together. Anything worth having is worth working for! Don’t just sit back and lament what is, work toward what can be. Your husband, a’h, and you created a legacy that your children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren will remember and pass on through the generations to come, but only if you keep it alive and remind them how wonderful it was to be together and hear the stories of yore. Plan a get-together this Chanukah, just to be together, with no other expectations than to touch base together. You have a great treasure to pass on to them and only you can do it. That, my friend, makes you more than just the family historian, it makes you priceless!
