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There are times in the day that I dream of silence. A moment that my ear doesn’t buzz with someone calling me mommy. A millisecond that I can call my own. I dream of silence. I yearn for it so badly that at times I stay up at night just to hear the blessed silence.

Yet. Is it actually blessed silence? What about the day when the young ones have grown and the house will be silent?

My teenage son has already flown the nest and attends an out of town high school. When he was home during the pandemic he seemed super busy. He was rushing to speak to his friends on zoom and enjoying his favourite pastimes. It got me thinking.

When he went back to yeshiva he was so excited and relieved. I started feeling sad. Didn’t we just laugh and play together? But then I stopped. I had dreamed of the day he would be confident and happy to spread his wings and discover himself and here I was brooding? Why?

We crave for the silence. We crave for noise. We crave for our children to adore us and respect us. But then we say- “give me space- I need some quiet time.” And then they start spreading their own wings. We run after them trying to catch one more moment of childhood fun. But they are experiencing their own journey with us hovering somewhere nearby.

So now with my younger ones I am still craving silence but I know the value of the noise, incessant physical demands and emotional needs. Silence is golden until it’s actually silent.

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I can bet you that the amount of times my kids say the word “mommy” is more than average. They say the word mommy before and after each sentence like a respectable individual would say please and than


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