The Past Three Months Have Been Harder Than I Realized

The kumquat tree missed them.

On Friday afternoon my newly-seven-year old grandson climbed the garden wall of our home and almost ran into my arms. I burst out in giant loud messy sobs. He stopped so short that smoke came out of his sneakers, and he anxiously eyed me top to bottom, sure that I must be bleeding somewhere.

I started apologizing (by this time his eight-year-old sister was beside him, watching me scare my grandchildren with my wailing). Choking on my sobs, I told them, “Savta is just so happy to see you at my home. I missed you all so much. My house missed you. My kumquat tree missed you. The toys missed you. I'm sorry. I can’t stop crying, because I am grateful.”

Absolutely frozen, they watched me in silence - a bit afraid, a bit weirded out, a bit pity-filled for Savta. And I realized that the past three months have been harder on me than I realized.

Like the rest of you, I spent more than two months in self-isolation – not leaving the house, not seeing my friends or family, not participating in any real-world activities. I zoomed. I whatsapped. I facebooked. I even worked a little. B”H for my heroic husband (ad 120 beyachad) and wonderful kids who shopped for us. B"H for exciting screen door visits.

HEY, WHERE IS EVERYBODY?

Mostly, I watched a deserted world at my front door, as I prayed in my rocking chair. (Wow, that does sound like an old lady from some novel, but truthfully, we had been left behind in a ghost town.)

And I observed, as life transformed over the weeks - from me alone with my birds, to one person walking through the street on Shabbat, to three kids and a dog, to a few couples and a family here and there, and then this past week, voila…a busy exciting bustle passing my door.

I did everything I was told. The day the Health Ministry said we could go out (of course, with our masks), I tremulously and hesitatingly walked out my door, holding my brave husband’s hand. When they said we could visit our grandchildren, but at a distance, my husband and I jumped in the car and visited every single grand/kid immediately. We even brought “We-love-balloons.” We just wanted to see their faces in living color sans-screen, even if not up close.

THE SHOCK OF REALITY

But nothing could prepare me for the sight of my cherished little people climbing up my wall. I am still overcome with emotion, thinking how much we (the protected part of the population) have suffered more than the rest of the world at-large from lack of interaction with our grandchildren.
Thank G-d, they are back in our lives.

An amazing outdoor get-together (with masks, except for eating and smiling.)

And still, we older folks probably won’t totally heal until that day comes when we can hug those little people that we love and smother them with kisses. May it come soon.
PS - thank you to the folks who worked to keep us healthy and safe. xoxo