Over the last few weeks, my heart and my household have expanded and contracted, sometimes in different directions. Two of our seven children who had been living abroad for extended periods of time came home and a third got married, expanding our family and freeing up another bedroom. This was the second daughter we have been privileged to bring to the chupah and although the joy and hope was the same, the overall experience was quite different.
None of the siblings are children anymore, with that role having been passed on to our granddaughter (who was a conscientious bridesmaid, distributing petals down the aisle with great concentration). The first time, I spent much of the previous week in tears, until I sobbed my way through a preview of the chupah music a couple of days before the wedding and got it all out of my system. This time, having spent a restful, family-focused Shavuot only a few days earlier, I was far less weepy, unlike all the other women in my immediate family who sat teary-eyed during the chupah.
Before our oldest daughter’s wedding, a good friend passed on a suggestion she had received from a cousin: If you’re going to bless your child before the chupah, do that just for the photos, and give them the real blessing before you leave the house. It worked well last time, so we did that again, and that was when the tears really flowed as we all nearly lost ourselves. The blessing – May God make you like Sarah, Rivka, Rachel and Leah, followed by the prie.
