Tuesday morning, on our way to the brit (see previous post), Moshe casually mentioned that he was "surprised that [I] did not get up this morning."
When I wondered why, he reminded me that our eldest left that morning for a three day tiyul (hike).
"You always used to get up with them," he continued,"even for a short, one day trip..."
He was right. In the past, whenever one of my kids had a tiyul (hike), I would get up early (no matter what the hour) and make sure they had everything they need (this is after helping them pack their bags and giving them treats the night before). Then I would remind them to be safe and stay close to the madrich (guide), give them a kiss and hug, and send them on their merry way.
I do not think I ever missed saying goodbye on the morning of a tiyul... until this Tuesday.
Tuesday morning's activities penetrated the fog of my sleep, but only ever so slightly.
I was too tired to wake up. By the time I finally opened my eyes and called for my daughter, they were gone. I felt a moment's disappointment before I rolled over and fell back asleep.
I did not know how to respond to my husband. I knew he was not trying to make me feel bad. And I knew that I did not need to feel bad. Moreover, I knew that my daughter would be fine (and that I had helped her with everything she needed the night before).
Still, I missed saying goodbye to her.
Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.
With love and optimism,
Waiting on the Tenth
2 hours ago