And So They've Gone for Now...
...
The inevitable happened. They left. Off to Canada. Away from here. Sure, they will be back to visit in a month. Don't tell me that in your voice that sounds like that makes everything okay. It isn't the same thing. It isn't Shabbat dinner together. Lunch at Gokul. A drive away to drop off some peaches. A lazy Sunday dinner at our place. A phone call with no long distance charges. It is a visit. It doesn't mean the move is no big deal. I don't see it the way you do. Neither do they. A visit is different than being a few blocks away from being able to hug their grandchildren whenever they want. Send soup to their little grand-one who isn't feeling well on any given day. A Shabbos nap at their son's house after davening. A class with (now) old friends. A day's drive away from the other granschildren and son.
Please. Take your words of "comfort"
...your "they'll be back in a month to visit (so it is okay, see?)"...
and think twice before saying them to me. Please.
...
The inevitable happened. They left. Off to Canada. Away from here. Sure, they will be back to visit in a month. Don't tell me that in your voice that sounds like that makes everything okay. It isn't the same thing. It isn't Shabbat dinner together. Lunch at Gokul. A drive away to drop off some peaches. A lazy Sunday dinner at our place. A phone call with no long distance charges. It is a visit. It doesn't mean the move is no big deal. I don't see it the way you do. Neither do they. A visit is different than being a few blocks away from being able to hug their grandchildren whenever they want. Send soup to their little grand-one who isn't feeling well on any given day. A Shabbos nap at their son's house after davening. A class with (now) old friends. A day's drive away from the other granschildren and son.
Please. Take your words of "comfort"
...your "they'll be back in a month to visit (so it is okay, see?)"...
and think twice before saying them to me. Please.
...
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