instant farbrengen

I passed a classro0m today and overheard the following comment: "The State requires teachers to be licensed, but we don't need licensing to be a parent!"

The comment was made by the teacher, a coach, who was training a group of adults in sports coaching.

I don't know if he meant to ridicule the idea, support the idea or just get the group to laugh.

As I continued down the hall, a line that I heard from a Living Torah video, played in my mind, "You have to educate her from when she is little, that her purpose is to make a Jewish Home".

We don't need to be licensed, because we are already qualified.

G-d gives us children because he believes that we can raise them.

We, who follow in the path G-d created for us, educate our children to be parents.

If we don't, we're betraying G-d's trust.

If we do, we raise licensed parents.

The drawers are empty. As are the closets. The piles on the shelves are growing shorter and shorter. Shwekey, Lipa and Ohad take turns singing in the background. The blue light on the police tower flashes through the window consistently.

Packing again. Another goodbye.

It’s been a long year of goodbyes.

During the day, when the sun shines, in those rare moments when I face forward, I imagine I’m no different from those around me.

Even at night, with the door closed and the music playing, I believe that I am okay.

But then, it’s time to say goodbye again. And I know that nothing is the same. They are moving forward, always forward. Sometimes, I stand at the side of the tracks, waving as they pass me by. Tonight I am on another train, going the opposite direction.

Each time, I start all over. Goodbye to my man, goodbye to my home, goodbye to my innocence, goodbye to my trust, goodbye to another piece of myself.

Suddenly the darker spots fade, and I yearn for what could have been.

Goodbye to Crown St., Goodbye to all the family parties I hated, goodbye to washing the floor, goodbye to Prospect Park, the subway, the library. Goodbye to the streets of Crown Heights, where the houses stand like soldiers saluting an unseen general. Goodbye to all the times I walked on Eastern Parkway, Brooklyn, Crown, a stranger in my own home.

When I leave tomorrow, I will leave behind all the missed opportunities, all the many days I could have smiled and chose instead to grumble.

Have I learned anything?