To be completely honest with you, I have long thought of grandparenting as a mystery.

I mean, I have been blessed with the most amazing grandparents. Actually, I hit the double bonus day on grandparents, because I was blessed with my mother’s parents, my father‘s parents, and my stepfather‘s parents, which means I definitely got more than my fair share of incredible grandparents. 

My grandparents were warm and loving, and I always felt that I was the center of their universe. So in that sense, I did not find grandparenting mysterious at all. I knew that when I would become a grandparent, I would have such amazing role models for what it meant to love unconditionally and to make your grandchild feel like the center of the universe. 

But what mystified me was this. As my friends started becoming grandparents, I kept hearing the same thing from all of them: this complete and utter besotted love uncomplicated by the stresses and exhaustion of parenting. But I couldn’t really understand what this instant love was. 

I have long taught in my Torah classes the famous Jewish precept that love comes from giving. So why would I fall in love with my grandchild literally on the day they were born? I haven’t given them anything yet. I haven’t invested anything in this relationship yet.  

Parents do. Parents are already investing in their child from the moment they prepare to become parents. The months, sometimes years of preparation to become a parent is already an investment into the relationship. But a grandparent doesn’t have any of that. So how to understand this instant love affair? 

But after my grandchild was born, I understood it. 

Watching your child become a parent is such a unique experience of nachas that is literally inexplicable. And what I realized when my grandchild was born is that maybe I haven’t been preparing for this particular child for nine months like their parents were, but actually I have been preparing for this moment from the moment my child was born.

From the second this baby’s mother was born, and even before, we prayed for this moment. We pray for our children to be happy, to be settled, to find their soulmates, and to establish families of their own. And, of course, the birth of the grandchild does not end any of these prayers. We continue to pray and hope that our grandchildren grow up safe and loved and happy, and live purposeful and meaningful lives. 

So maybe the reason I love this little guy so much is because in a sense I have been thinking about him for 25 years. (Although I will add that the fact that he’s named after my father certainly doesn’t hurt.) With a heart full of blessing and as I head into my birthday weekend, I am exquisitely aware that God has overwhelmed me with his kindness and has given me the best 49th birthday present a girl could ever hope for. 

Sending birthday blessings to all of you, my dear readers. May all of your prayers be answered. And may we all experience true and unadulterated love at some point in our lives.

It’s been a rough week following the news in Israel. Actually, every week feels like a rough week following the news in Israel. It’s easy to feel dejected and hopeless. How can this situation possibly resolve itself? When will the terror attacks, the political volatility and the Jew vs. Jew protests end? I was feeling kinda yuck.

I write you these words from the holy land, where I am here leading another Momentum trip as one of the educators. My daughter Hindy and I traveled together through Amsterdam, spending the day there on Thursday, and then landing here in Israel on Friday morning.

The other day my husband and I were out shopping for shoes for him. Now, this is a very rare situation, because 1. he never goes shopping, especially not for himself 2. we never go shopping together! Who has time for that sort of thing other than newlyweds and the elderly?

Last week my family and I were driving from… you guessed it… Monsey, New York, back home to Cleveland. Yes, we do this trip a lot, since many of our relatives live on the east coast and we are big road trippers when it comes to family simchas. My nephew’s bar mitzvah was on Tuesday evening, and then, on Wednesday, we traveled back — with a minor detour, literally ten minutes off the I-80, in a town called Mt. Bethel, Pennsylvania.

Who will be the Zaidys of our children?

There is a visceral correlation between the seasons of the year and the seasons of the Jewish calendar.

Lighting Chanukah candles is in the frost and ice, stamping the snow off your boots as you blow into the warm home of wherever your Chanukah party is. You wipe the fog off your glasses, blow your nose, shrug off your coat and help yourself to the doughnuts and latkes. The small, hot candles burn brightly at the darkest time of year, reminding us to shine our own lights when everything seems black.

I write these words to you from Kalahari where I am spending two days and a night with my daughters. The reason I am here is that one of them is on winter vacation (they don’t get a break in December but rather they do it now instead), and the other one used the opportunity to put herself on vacation. A perk of working for your parents, I suppose.