Please Say You'll Miss Me!
by Rabbi Yosef Koval
Greetings from the Holy Land!
I have the privilege of coming to Jerusalem for a week and I am enjoying every moment, trying
to soak up everything and burn everything into my memory to retain for the future (considering
I have a hard time remembering what I ate yesterday for lunch I’m not sure I will be too
successful!).
The following thought that I wanted to share, though, occurred right before I embarked on my
trip.
As I was preparing to leave to the airport, I dropped off my children at school (one last favor
that I could do for my lovely wife who so graciously agreed to let me leave her for a week
while she watched the kids!). After that I took my two year old to the daycare that he goes to.
On a typical morning I bring him in to his room, take off his coat, put his lunch away and get a
warm welcome from his cheerful and talkative classmates. He, on the other hand, usually goes
straight to some important activity such as playing with a fire engine, eating some Cheerios,
finger painting or fighting with another kid over a toy. I will give him a hug and a kiss and
say “Goodbye Chaim” and wait for a hug or kiss back, or even an acknowledgment that I am
leaving.
Alas, that usually doesn’t happen (although I will almost always get a very friendly
wave and “goodbye” from his classmate Chani. I’m not sure what her fascination with me is.)
That’s the usual drill and I’m ok with it. But this time it was different to me.
You see this time, I knew that I was going to be away for a LONG time! A week to a two year old is an eternity! I desperately wanted him to acknowledge me in some manner. Perhaps to at least say goodbye. Maybe even a little wave. Dare I hope for a kiss?! But, apparently my absence was not as big of a deal to him as his “baba” (i.e. sippy cup), Cheerios and fire engine were. He barely looked my way, let alone gave me any kind of send-off. I do thank Chani though for coming through again in the clutch. She gave me a very warm farewell as usual.
As I walked away and went to my car to head to the airport I thought about this small exchange.
Why did it mean so much to me? Why did it bother me that he wouldn’t say goodbye? What
lesson can I take from it?
I am by no means a psychologist but I did come to certain conclusions. I realized that parents
(and this goes for people other than parents as well) have a desperate need to feel loved and
needed by their children. We invest so much into them in terms of time, money and energy
and we passionately wish that the investment will be reciprocated in some small way. We also
know how much we will miss them when we will be away and we would hope they would
miss us at least half as much. Certainly from a two-year-old who can not even grasp the concept
of his parent about to leave for an extended period of time one cannot intellectually expect
reciprocal feelings, no matter how badly we may want it on an emotional level. But we can’t
help ourselves; this is how we are wired as human beings. We may want them to need us. We
may want them to miss us. But there’s a good chance that those things will often not transpire.
I also thought of how this relates to us as adults. Particularly as I am now visiting the land of
Israel. You see, many years ago, G-d knew that He would have to send us away from the land. That there would be a long and bitter exile. That our special relationship with Him would be tarnished and not as close as it once was. And it pained Him to think of that upcoming separation. So He sent us prophets and leaders to beg us change our ways so that He can avoid that separation.
But we were like ignorant babies, oblivious to the warnings. We were much more interested in
the “Cheerios” and the “fire engines” that were things which the Torah prohibited. We couldn’t
care less that G-d was going to go away for a long time. And many years later He gave us an
unbelievable gift – He brought us back home! He made it clear that soon we will be reunited!
But he waits so longingly for some acknowledgement that we wish to come back together so that He can finalize our return. He waits for us to show that we miss Him so that He can come back again. So that we can not have to endure more suffering at the hands of our enemies. We ignored Him once; He doesn’t want us to ignore us again. Even more than a loving parent, He so badly craves to be together with us and for us to feel dependent upon Him (although not G-d forbid due to any human behaviors and rationales that are present in us, rather because He knows that such a relationship is in our own best interests).
So as I walk through this special land, and I encounter all of my brothers and sisters, I feel a
special connection to each of them. I recognize how lucky they are to share a greater bond with
G-d than we in the Diaspora can share. But the mission is not complete. We need to show G-d
that we miss Him. And I think to myself that I can hopefully use this experience and my week in
Israel to spur me on to do my part in coming closer to G-d, in missing Him the way He misses us
so that we can be reunited in the way we once were.
Let’s hope we can all be brought to Israel,
with the coming of the Messiah, speedily and in our days.
Shabbat shalom!
Rabbi Yosef Koval
