Silence Is Not Golden

As I said goodby at the airport to my daughter Lisa, the last of my family to return to Israel from their Hanukkah visit, I was overcome with sadness. Two weeks earlier I had similarly bid farewell to my son, Steve; his wife, Lotti, and their baby girl, Dina. When two-year-old Dina arrived, she was a granddaughter who lived 9,000 miles away. When she left, she was my granddaughter and I had come to know and whom I would miss sorely.

Lisa was the last to leave and her departure touched me even more deeply. She is my only daughter and quite special, so our farewell was particularly difficult. In her inimitable, forthright manner she had been a catalyst and I considered myself a man of extreme swings, but how quickly euphoria turned to melancholia. One moment they were all here, the house was full, chaos and excitement prevailed, the two-year-old granddaughter holding sway, the cacophony of everyone speaking at once (some in Hebrew, some in English), the steady stream of visitors — then, suddenly, the house was empty and still.

For me, silence is not golden.

Collage of memories, impressions, thoughts

There is a collage of wonderful memories, impressions, reminiscences and some regrets to ponder upon until we all meet again. Somehow, I managed to buck heads with each of the children. Like many parents I was conveniently oblivious to the fact that my children were now all adults — one even married, with a child of his own — and all four out of the house.

At times I fell into the common trap of being 'father' again: omniscient, omnipresent and (although unsolicited) giving advice and making arrangements, the 'child.' You just can't do that with grown children, and certainly not with those who have left. It was a very valuable experience for me and also a lesson all parents can well bear in mind:

Valuable experience is shared by families

adult children have minds of their own and are entitled to independence from parental control. By the time children attain their majority they really have learned almost all that parents have to teach them. Thereafter, advice or involvement, if unsolicited, is intrusive, usually resented and often counterproductive.

It is necessary, natural and healthy for children to make that separation and incumbent upon parents to recognize and give credence to that need. This 'breaking away' is in no way indicative of lack of love or respect for parents or their opinions. It is simply the second cutting of the umbilical cord and a more complex and thorny procedure than the initial, physical one at birth.

Once again, as so often in recent years, I feel fortunate to have gained valuable insight from interacting with my children.

Half of my family is now back in Israel. The pleasures of this wonderful family reunion will be long savored and the lessons learned, long remembered.