Friday, December 18, 2015

My Mom, My Daughter, My Granddaughter, and Me (Vayigash 5776)

The distinct and sometimes parallel paths of my mother’s life and my daughter’s life intersected powerfully this week at a hospital in Santa Monica. 

My mother has lived in Santa Monica for more than 50 years; my daughter and her husband moved there just five months ago. 

At the hospital my mother received challenging and sad news about the return of her cancer. At the same hospital, by sharp contrast, my daughter joyfully delivered her healthy (beautiful!) baby girl. [Mother, father, and daughter are all doing great]


The powerful intersection of two life paths is almost too poignant for words. Yet words are mixing in my mind that have to be shared. One set of words comes from my mother. The other comes from this week’s Torah portion.


Right after my daughter and her twin brother were born prematurely through an emergency procedure at a neonatal intensive care center, my mom declared, “This moment - becoming a grandparent - is the best! It's better even than becoming a parent.” That seemed crazy to me. Infant life in a NICU is fragile and vulnerable. I wasn’t sure then what my mother could have meant.


In that moment, becoming a parent seemed fraught with anxiety. On top of typical anxiety about “will I be a good parent,” “will my daughter grow to fulfill her potential,” or “will she thrive in a challenging world,” there was the additional anxiety of worrying about her survival and long-term health. 

Why wasn’t my mother troubled in the same way!?! But now I know - aided by becoming a grandparent myself and by this week’s Torah portion. She was troubled, but she did not let any of that swallow up her delight and joy.


In the Torah portion, Joseph reunites with his brothers (the ones who earlier tried to destroy him) and sends them back to bring their father to Egypt for shelter and food. Before the brothers leave, though, Joseph offers them advice. He warns “don’t quarrel on the path.” (Genesis 45:24.)


Rashi’s (11th century) commentary offers some literal renderings related to conduct during travel -- that is, be careful not to argue with each other so much you get lost or be careful not to waste time blaming each other for what you did to me [Joseph]. The Kotzker Rebbe (19th century) offers something different. He sees that the prepositional Hebrew letter ‘bet’ does not always mean ‘on’ sometimes it means ‘with.’ Read in that way, Joseph may be coaching his brothers not to argue with the path of their journey.


So it is with us. Some of us argue often with the path of our lives. For instance sometimes when we are stuck in horrible traffic we might be able to change the route slightly. But mostly we are just stuck. How we use that time -- whether to get stressed or angry on the one hand or to reflect on the day or call a friend on the other hand -- reflects whether we compel ourselves to argue with the path. Arguing with it accomplishes little.  


Another verse from the Hebrew bible, it seems to me, elaborates on this lesson. We are taught, “educate a child according to his or her unique path” (Proverbs 6:22.) In other words, each of us is a unique learner, has a unique combination of skills and perspectives, has a unique path. We will advance ourselves further on that path when we embrace it and celebrate it than when we quarrel with or battle it.


Back to my mother's advice. When my daughter was born, I was focused on quarreling with the path -- anxious about being a father rather than celebrating it; fearing for her fragility, worried about her future. By contrast my mother was filled beyond overflowing with joy. She had concerns about my twins' future, to be sure, but my mom kept those feelings in perspective. She embraced the path of their little lives with resilience, courage, concern, and joy.


Now my mom is courageously embracing the intersecting paths of her life -- her cancer and her granddaughter’s new baby girl. My mother did not choose either path; both were beyond her control. Yet how she embraces each path is in her control.  


Rather than be demoralized by a path she cannot alter, my mother is choosing to celebrate life and family with whatever time is left for her. Having cancer is horrible. Living with cancer is courageous. Quarreling with cancer is counter-productive. Choosing to embrace a great-grandchild joyfully despite cancer is resilient.


This is a season of journeys -- as we take a break from the routine of a regular school calendar during winter break. Many of us will be on journeys -- some far, some near.  As we journey, may we be strong enough not to quarrel with the path of that journey -- after all there is little we can do to make an illness disappear let alone traffic. And may we be wise enough to embrace the path of our journeys creating more moments of resilience and celebration.

As for me, I will be heading to Santa Monica to be with my mom, my daughter, and my granddaughter. This moment is the best ever!

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