I love Sh-he-ch-ya-nu moments.
It was ever so subtle, almost gone before I really noticed it. In an instant, my son Noah was separate from me. It was a profound moment.I was watching him play baseball. Noah, who had sat on the bench for three years, was on the field.
Craig had always been able to cheer the team on even while our son was on the sidelines. I had tried to be supportive, but my heart was heavy as if a piece of it were sitting on that bench alongside Noah.Noah was ‘our first pancake’ as Mrs. DeJong, his teacher, told me when he was in the first grade. There’s always the first, when the griddle isn’t quite ready. Noah went to the beat of his own drum – did things at his own pace – didn’t follow the crowd.
Today I watched Noah, our senior, playing second base. Not just playing, but playing well with his team – his team. Noah was completely in charge of Noah – playing, catching, throwing, bunting, running. He was his own man.
The coach gave him the game ball. I guess we did our job. He has his own journey.
She-he-che-ya-nu Ve-kee-ya-manu Ve-hi-gee-ya-nu Laz-man Ha-zeh
Dear God, thank you for supporting, protecting and bringing us to this day.
Louise Taubman is an educator and mother of two.
