We could barely make a party. We didn't know what to do. In the end, my parents flew in, we invited relatives and a few close friends and did a simple party with a fancy cake at our preschool, which had just opened a few months before. We didn't make a community event of it. We just didn't know what to do.
I got everyone dressed and ready and then went to get dressed myself, while someone- maybe my parents or my husband, I can't remember- took the kids, including Mendel, to the party.
I was in my closet getting dressed and I couldn't find the other shoe of the pair I wanted to wear. And no matter how much I looked, I couldn't find that pair. And I wasn't going to the opshernish- my own son's opshernish, to greet all the guests I had invited- because I couldn't find that shoe. And I really thought it was because of the shoe. I wasn't crying, or thinking about the opshernish, which I had dreaded with a sinking heart for months. I was just looking for my shoe.
After a very long time, I wore my brown heels, not the gray ones that I had planned to wear, and somehow made my way over to the party.
Everyone was already there, and no doubt wondering where on earth I was. My sister said, "Were you going to skip the party?!"
No, I told her. I just couldn't find my shoe.
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Some pictures from the party. It was simple and beautiful in a certain way.
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| I love this photo, blurry as it is. My husband is deep in unspoken prayer, holding Mendel. That whole day was a prayer. My brothers are around him. |
My beautiful boy, a few days after his haircut.
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