“I’m not crying. I’m just tired,” Elliot said as we stood face-to-face in the school hallway.
It was the first Kabbalat Shabbat I was going to miss. Elliot had tears streaming down his cheeks but wasn’t sobbing. He is only 5 and in kindergarten.
I felt awful. I felt like when I’d leave him in Pre-K and younger when I’d attend Shabbat Party but then left for the day – sometimes at 10:00. He cried then, too, but even more than now. He’s growing up.
“I’m sorry. I have to go to the doctor,” I said.
“Can’t you come for a few minutes?” he asked.
I couldn’t. I hugged him. I was already kneeling as I almost always do when we talk.
On the way out, I mentioned to Avi the principal that Elliot was crying because I could not stay for Kabbalat Shabbat.
“A life lesson,” he said.
Indeed. Why must we separate? Why must there be such pain?
