The Lights of My Life

My aunt saying Chanukah prayers as a child with my Papa, Oma, Opa & Oma Oma

We are a singing family. From Old MacDonald to Mary Mack, singing is my default for boredom or simply getting the munchkins’ attention. But there’s one song I only sing because I love them, “You are my sunshine.” Whenever there’s a crying or grumpy child, I am there rubbing her back and singing. They request the song in the car sometimes, and I sing it over and over, the repetitiveness speaking to my need to drill into them “I love you” and “You are safe here.” The song comes naturally to me, and I like the themes in it – YOU are MY brilliance, my light, and I don’t want to let you go.

Chanukah is a holiday of light. We celebrate the miracle of eight days of illuminating fire, when there was only enough oil for one night. It’s a holiday celebrating radiance, trusting in abundance during a time of scarcity. I want to teach my children these lessons, but most importantly, I was to teach them to be the light.

A candle’s flame can light an infinite number of candles and never diminish its own brilliance. In Judaism there is a teaching that the soul of a person is G-d’s candle. I interpret this to mean that our goodness – and our criticalness too – is holy and should shine brightly. As a parent, it is my duty to help kindle that light, to bring it out of the darkness so that it can be shared by the community – ablaze with personal triumph. 

This Chanukah will be the first Jewish holiday we get to share with the girls. It’s a perfect first holiday to spend with a seven and eight year old. Chanukah is not a major holiday in Judaism, and allows for a low-key introduction to our non-daily religious experiences. Like many Jewish holidays, it’s child-friendly with great rituals. We’ll spin the dreidel, light the menorah, give small gifts, eat latkes, and spend time with friends. 

At least, that’s what we hope. This process is full of waiting and uncertainty. The placement paperwork has been submitted to the judge, and we hope he’ll approve it before this Saturday, but we can’t be certain to the decision or the timing. I keep reminding myself to trust in abundance during times of scarcity, though my heart yearns for the warmth of E & S in my arms.

As I am anxious and trying to guard my heart, I am also very excited. This Saturday, E and S could come home. Come to our house and be home. Because this Saturday, they can come and never leave, never have to go back to their foster mother, and stay forever and always. This Saturday, I might be able to finally call them my children and not feel as if I’m announcing a baby before its birth, fating a G!d that I don’t believe controls these things. This Saturday, we could become parents to two amazing children who light up my life, and I’m sure will light up yours too. But still we wait, keeping our own candles burning until we can share them with two amazing kids.

Chag sameach to those who celebrate! Here’s a song for the season.