The kids couldn’t wait to go to Israel with their dad, for a cousin’s wedding. I said they could go, miss a week of school, and little Shaya, who’d only been as a baby, woke up the day before with that gleam in his eyes and said, “We are going to Israel, TOMORROW.”

His glee warmed my heart. Despite the difficulties of divorce, we all want to give our children the dreams and adventures of life. The teachers at our international school more than embraced the excitement of missing a week of school to travel halfway around the world. They nodded and smiled, “Go,” waving my children off on their adventure.

And so despite the tears in the car yesterday morning and the I’m going to miss you so much, Mommy refrain of the days prior and the hole in my heart whenever I am not with them, I let them go.

At 6:30 last night, the phone rang. “We’re still in Detroit,” Eliana said. The flight should have left at 3:45 for New York, then a connection to depart at dark.

But the Nor’easter basting the East Coast in snow kept them grounded. All their father’s kosher food gone, all the excitement seeped out, their bags still on the plane and a worried Shaya, concerned about the iPad I’d left him in charge of. 

“It will all work out,” I told my sweet children. “You will get to Israel.”

But what if, what if, what if…worst case scenarios swirled and twirled like a Mary Poppins tornado in their minds, torturing their bright adventurous eyes darker.

“It always works out,” I murmured. “The airlines will get you to Israel. You will get there. Your trip will happen.”

After cooing I love you and sending kisses over the phone, I said goodbye.

They did get out of Detroit, by the way. Later in the night, probably bedraggled, weary and cranky, they boarded a plane to London, then another to Amsterdam, where they may be wandering past Anne Frank’s house as I type these words. Soon, they’ll touch down in the Jewish State.

The adventure has begun. Well, really, the adventure is in every single moment, whether we’re at home or on the road. It’s all in how you look at it.

Connect with Lynne
Date

Register for The Writers Community