Last of Everything

And so we begin our last week here in Cedarhurst. Next week at this time we will be sitting on an El-Al plane. A one way ticket. I am nervous, and scared. All my adult life I have wanted to do this and now I am praying that we have made the right decision. Tomorrow L. comes home from camp to an empty house. How will she react?

I am starting to think, "This is the last time...." The last time I will be in this store....the last time I will drive down this block....the last time I will go to Splish-Splash....the last time I will buy the newspaper in this store...We've already had our last Shabbat meal in our home...and its feeling less and less like our home.

Today the new owner came for the walk-through. We didn't know he was coming and the house was a complete mess, but he was okay. We also cancelled our utilities for next week. Friends walk in, and leave with our stuff. They say, "you're not taking that?", and we tell 'em to take it. Since we couldn't send liquor on our lift, a few people came by for a "Finish your liquor party". Big drinkers, our chevra--they barely made a dent.

Tuesday and Wednesday we'll do more tying up of loose ends. Thursday is a big day for us. L gets her Make-A-Wish day--maybe I'll post about that. Friday I'll leave aside to have a full blown panic attack. Shabbat we eat at friends (kiddush in memory of S's father A"H). Isaac was asked to daven shacharit--which means I have to be in shul early (couldn't they ask him to do Anim Zmirot?--the last prayer, usually lead by young boys). Our last Shabbat at this shul we love, warts and all. Our last kiddush club that Isaac is so proud of (after davening, everyone is invited). Sunday, good-bye to my parents, who don't want to come to the airport (will it be easier at home????) and more good-byes at our shul barb-b-q. And.....Monday, Monday.

We have been asked to bring a Sefer Torah to Israel. What an honor and a priviledge. I feel like this is such a good siman for our aliya!

We are truly blessed....

on the art of packing

So we are in the throes of packing up our house, as we are moving to Israel in less than six weeks. It is all quite an experience, but the packing itself has brought much to mind. First of all, if I had the energy, I think I would "pack" up the house once a year (I know some of you might call that cleaning for Pesach, but the goal of my Pesach cleaning was always to make sure there is no chametz, not to PURGE the house, which is what packing is--but I digress). It is very cathartic to get rid of all this STUFF, much of it really and truly junk. I'm talking 15 industrial-sized garbage bags of junk, and we're not even halfway through. And then there is the stuff that goes into the sell pile, because it's still somewhat good, usable, and well, one person's trash is another persons treasure, no? But all that STUFF! I stopped counting bentchers at 150--there were probably 300 altogether. Perfectly good bentchers from 25 years worth of weddings, bar/bat mitzvahs, sheva brachot, shul dinners. I hate to be a party pooper, but maybe its time we all just stopped printing them. Why not have generic ones that are used in every catering hall? I mean, really I order my kids not to bring them home from the bat mitzvahs they attend! Nobody wants our bentchers--the rabbi told us to put it with the "shemot"! So I packed about 50 (25 extra from L's bat mitvah) and the rest are gone. I felt bad. Some of my friends have been married 25 years, and I gave away their bentchers....



The other thing is the pictures. Until I recently got my digital camera, Sarge on central avenue would always convince me that I need to get an extra set developed, because it was free. Thank G-d I always put the original photos in albums, but yesterday I was left with about 5000 pictures of doubles. I've always been a bit queasy about throwing out pictures. I mean these are people and memories that I cherish.....but still there were boxes and boxes of the stuff--I just couldn't see dragging them to Israel--to put where? and for what purpose? Isaac decided that he felt better shredding the pictures, rather than just dumping them in the trash. (He just loves that shredder.) He sat at the shredder for hours and ended up with a huge post Tisha B'av migraine. Once I decided the pictures were going, I didn't feel that we needed to actually destroy them--I was fine leaving that to the garbage disposal people. But you pick your battles, and if shredding makes him happy so be it.


But back to the packing. The other day, my friend R came with her husband to pick up a buffet she wanted. She was happy to get the buffet and I was happy to give it to her. Really, truly. But I feel so.....sad watching them shlep that piece of furniture out of my house--like my house is coming apart. We've lived here for 12 years. So much has been experienced here. Mostly joy, but certainly we've had challenges. So many friendships have developed over my dining room table, while on the phone doing housework, sitting out front on the stoop. I remember when we moved from Brooklyn I was so excited about buying the house, but on the day of the move I cried and cried. And I was lonely when I first got here. I missed Brooklyn. And I will miss Cedarhurst. But I never wanted to go back to Brooklyn....When I pack I can't avoid thinking, "I'm leaving". I don't intend to come back. And it's just so....bittersweet.