There’s a joke going around Israeli parenting social-media sites: A mama complains, “I am really tired of seeing my mother’s grandchildren!”
And oh, how we miss out on seeing those youngsters.
The paradoxical reality for us in this crazy covid world is that our five grandchildren in Israel and two in Oregon are equally out of hugging range these days.
Or a minimum of the majority of them are. Usually. The scenario is fluid and unpredictable.
Thank God, my other half had the ability to take a trip to Portland before our child delivered on October 31. He landed in time to celebrate our grandson Lavi’s second birthday on the 28th and to take care of him when it was time for baby Adar to be born.
To be sure, the trip required wearing a mask for about 24 hours door-to-door, other than at mealtimes. He needed to get unique health insurance and provide a health declaration at the airport. However it was certainly worth the additional effort. No question about it!
And where was I on the day Adar was born? I was 7,000 miles away, at home in Ma’aleh Adumim. Which is 13 miles away from our Israeli grandchildren (and their parents, naturally).
Our 10-year-old granddaughter, Elisheva, kept me business that Shabbat. Our almost 12-year-old grand son, Yehuda, came the following Shabbat. Gladly, these gos to were possible since ever since Israel’s month-long national lockdown (“seger” in Hebrew) ended on October 18, fifth- and sixth-graders have actually continued range knowing and therefore are not exposed to classmates and teachers.
Their more youthful brother or sisters, however, have been back in daycare, nursery school, and 2nd grade, respectively, and for that reason are more exposed to possible spreaders. To be on the safe side, we see them just on video calls and sometimes outdoors.
On the Friday that my boy drove Yehuda to Ma’aleh Adumim, he brought along the 3 youngest kids so that we could invest a little time together in a park.
As 4-year-old Avital ran toward me, her 8-year-old sister, Tehila (using her mask properly), gently advised Avital not to hug or kiss me. And 17-month-old Techelet considered me warily. She clearly wasn’t sure she acknowledged this woman in a facemask.
It’s frustrating to be missing out on so much time with the kids, who appear to grow up at the speed of light. But this is the situation dealing with families throughout the world. We are among millions of grandparents who are grandparenting from another location the majority of the time, even if our grandchildren live neighboring geographically.
I do want to take a week off operate in a month or more to fly over to Portland so that I can see Lavi and newborn Adar (and their parents, naturally). That is, if there isn’t another lockdown in Israel. And if Oregon doesn’t extend the quarantine requirement for inbound travelers that they’ve put in location for November 18 through December 2. And if all of us, God willing, stay healthy.
There’s simply no such thing as long-lasting planning throughout a pandemic.
Meanwhile, we are grateful each and every single day for FaceTime, WhatsApp, Zoom, Google Meet, Skype, and all the other wonderful innovations that enable us not just to hear our grandchildren’s voices but likewise to play peekaboo, read them books, make funny faces, and appreciate their latest arts-and-crafts productions.
I fantasize about having the 7 kids together in our home for a genuine live go to, the five who live 13 miles away and the 2 who live 7,000 miles away.
They’re all being raised bilingually– the Israeli ones in an English-speaking family and the American ones in a Hebrew-speaking household– so I am curious to find in which language the two sets of children will speak to one another when that day comes.
And more than anything, I wonder when that day will come. Up until this pandemic finally loosens its grip, let us all do our finest to keep ourselves and our liked ones safe, even if it indicates missing out on a lot of hugs.Source: jewishstandard.timesofisrael.com