WHEN SAYING GOODBYE MEANS FOREVER

My mother-in-law is dying and it's only a matter of hours...days...until Savta Simcha (Grandmother Simcha) will not be part of the tapestry of Macheneh Yehudah.

Now, I know that she is an elderly woman. And I know that she is a mother and grandmother and great-grandmother. But, she is still Savta Simcha and although she has been suffering from the results of many strokes, she is still Savta Simcha to the grandchildren and Imma to her children and to me.

When I married my husband,a lifetime ago, I didn't know what to call my new mother-in-law and since everyone called her Imma (Mom), I did too. I never called anyone Imma before and it was easy to just add my name to the list of her children.

You should have seen the looks on everyone's faces in the beginning. I didn't care. I just called her Imma and kissed her when I walked into her house.

We didn't have an easy road, Savta Simcha and me. And for the past two days of running to the hospital my heart ached for her and for all of us.

Last night I was at my writing class when my daughter called on my cell phone. For some reason I didn't turn it off. She said that her father had called and told her that if she wanted to say goodbye to her Savta she better come to the hospital.

I dropped everything and met her and together we walked from Macheneh Yehudah where she lives and where my class is...passed Savta's darkened windows, and made our way to Bikur Cholim Hospital.

On the way I phoned my two sons and they met us there. My husband and three of his brothers and one remaining sister were there. Another sister-in-law was there. More grandchildren came as the phones reached out through the family.

At midnight my youngest and I left. But first we had to say goodbye. At this stage every goodbye could be forever and I watched my children stand beside their Savta with tears in their eyes. Touching her hand and saying what they had to say from their hearts to hers.

I know she heard them. And me. And all of us.

Sad. But, then I thought. Here is a woman who came from Kurdistan in the 1950's. As soon as they heard that Iraq was letting the Jews out, they ran and made their way to Israel. It is a fascinating story and one I may share with you at a later date.

She was brave. She was gorgeous. And she was tough as nails. She got married at thirteen. She couldn't read nor write. She raised seven children. All of her children are educated and are at the top of their fields. One is an international entepreneur. And the grandchildren are all either in school, the army or university.

Not bad. Not bad at all.

I wish her a peaceful journey. When the time comes to finally take our leave we will do our best to carry on what she started. Hard to say goodbye.

Have a great day...stay safe...and thanks for dropping in.