This morning, our second son, Squiggy, put on his tefillin in shul with a bracha for the first time. I did not expect to get emotional, but darn it, I am bursting with maternal pride. Watching him wind the straps around his arm, his father and his older brother watching and helping – it was a wonderful feeling and an awesome moment. Watching him daven with the menfolk all similarly tefillined – it’s like he has joined an exclusive club, one that will never have me as a member. But that’s fine. I’m quite happy not to have the obligation.
I watched as he unwrapped the tefillin with care, and slowly, painstakingly, wrapped the straps around his arm. It took a long while for him to be satisfied with how well he did the job. Then he moved on to the shel rosh, taking care not to mess up his hair. I got to watch him daven (through the mechitzah) and really shepped much yiddishe nachas! When it came time to put the tefillin away I watched the oldest take them off and wrap them up and put away in record time, but Squiggy took his time. I remember watching Lenny last year doing the same. I guess you do something day in day out you get better at it and more efficient.
We had a little l’chaim after shul – bagels and juice, nothing major, although there was scotch and vodka. I had none. At 7.30 in the morning?
It was just a perfect morning.
In the Pink 