What a strange beast time is.
For the past two decades, September 1 has been the official demarcation of the end of summer and the beginning of the school year.
Over 2.5 million children started school today in Israel, enabling parents to give a sigh of relief for the end of August, the end of the unstructured, babysitter-less time.
And yet, for families like ours, it’s such a strange time. Our stairs used to be filled with children; first with two when we made Aliyah, and eventually with six (and sometimes with dinosaurs stepping in when the kids weren’t available).
And suddenly, the stairs are virtually empty. Yes, they’ve been emptying slowly, first with one child off to yeshiva and then another; eventually with army-bound boys and those traveling the world.
Today, as September 1st appeared again and parents around the country posted their cute early morning “First Day of School” pictures, our house was quiet. One just got married and no longer calls those stairs his home; two are in the army with entirely different schedules; two are in yeshivas that started on Aleph Elul (the first day of the Hebrew month of Elul) which was weeks ago already.
And one, that final guy, packed his bags, agreed to take the picture on the stairs, and was off.
We sent him encouraging messages, telling him we loved him and were proud of him; that we were excited for him and that we hope he really works hard this year.
In return, we got a voice message, clearly at school based on the noisy background, asking if he can go to Romania with a friend in December to watch a soccer game.
And with that message, we knew that school had officially started for him.
It was a glorious summer that saw Yakir traveling to the north 7 times with friends to explore the Kinneret, the Yarden, the Golan, and everywhere in between. Every day we would wake up to a new set of pictures, a new maayan that had been discovered.
It saw Matan and Adi get married and start their own home together. (Pictures eventually….) It saw Eliav spread his wings a bit, traveling to Iceland with friends and having a blast.
It saw Zeli enjoying himself before setting off for Kiryat Shemona to yeshiva and to an entirely new life and schedule. It saw Yehuda and Amichai continue to defend our people and to enjoy time with friends.
I spent so, so many years eager for September 1. There is very little childcare or camps in August in Israel, and most parents can’t wait for the school year to begin again. These days, I relish every minute of that time that the kids are around; of the (very) late night poikes, the fly-by-night children, the hiking and adventure pictures; the hard working, making-money poses.
And then, like everything else, it’s gone. It’s over.
At 2am when we left Matan and Adi’s wedding two weeks ago, we got the family into two cars and headed home. I had a moment of panic, counting heads and realizing that we had left someone at the hall.
And then I counted again and realized that my panic was about……….Matan.
How long does it take to recalibrate the head count after so many years? How long does it take to adjust to the empty stairs on September 1 and to the changing lives?
People say that you should be patient when losing weight, that it took a long time to put on the weight so you need to give yourself time to lose it.
Perhaps this is similar. We built the framework of chaotic, joyous noise for 26 years. I say we give ourselves some time to adjust to the quiet and to relish in the beautiful lives the boys are creating for themselves, even if much of those moments are no longer focused on our stairs.
Here’s to a beautiful year ahead, boys and Adi. May you all reach towards your dreams and find joy in your everyday life each day, no matter where it takes you.
