Dallas....and the Firing Line

Can you imagine spending 70 years loving the same person?

This weekend is full of emotional family moments in Dallas where we are for a cousin's bat-mitzvah.

First off, is the drama playing out back at home.

It's like my grandparents are in a synchronized swimming end of life routine. It's a parallel descent that is VERY saddening, but simultaneously romantic.

They first met when she was 15 and he 17 on Yom Kippur in 1937. And they have been together ever since.

My grandmother (Nana) is in the hospital, suffering from an almost perfect storm of diseases. My grandfather (Poppy) is constrained to the house, forced to hold the love of his life's hand only over the phone.

70 years....and now they are declaring their eternal love to each other, knowing that the end is near and it's only a matter of time. Their last hope is to be together when the moment comes.

70 years...WWII, raising children, and all of those events that make up LIFE are culminating in a burst of emotional energy. I never thought it would be Nana first and it almost seems like Poppy is waiting for her to go before he decides to just give up and decides it's not worth the will/energy any longer.

All of this happens in the background as the bulk of the family (except for my mom, Tamar, and my kids) are in Dallas for a cousin's bat-mitzvah.

There's something eternal about the events here in Dallas. It's the same synagogue and the same structure as previous events (heck, even the food at kiddush is the same! Which is great.) What changes, of course, is the people...and that's the point. My cousins here are focused on making a great, memorable event for people to renew old acquaintances, and that is precisely what happens.

My cousin made a remark on Fri. night that really hit home...as he sat with me and another cousin, he said, "wouldn't Bobe have been proud to see all of us here getting along?"
(Bobe is grandmother in Yiddish). She would have been.

My dad made a different comment...

"when I first started coming to these events in Dallas, my parents were the grandparents generation. Now, I'm the grandparents generation. As my father used to say, 'Now, I'm on the firing line."

And within the subplot of Death and the Firing Line, there is the beauty of life.

A young girl becomes a Bat Mitzvah, full of boundless potential. My brother introduces his very serious girlfriend to the extended family. The children of my cousins' run around and play (Calanit was supposed to be here, too) showing that life begins afresh.

All of these life milestones wrapped up into one moment in time.