Wednesday, September 20, 2006

The Farewell Tour

I just noticed that this is my 619th post -- I've even exceeded 613, which is the number of commandments/mitzvot.

In any case, I'm calling this post "The Farewell Tour" -- not that I'm going anywhere, mind you. But aren't you familiar with all these performing artists who launch huge marketing and press campaigns advertising a "farewell tour" concert? Where are they going? I think only to the bank, as they rake in even MORE dollars with that sales ploy. It's not a final tour. They're going to hit a stadium or concert hall stage again...maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon...

So it's not my farewell tour, and it's not for any kind of readership gimmick that I'm affixing that title to this post. It's solely 'cause I identify with the title and the patterns I've seen behind it.

When I wrote my Sunday-morning post, I was feeling cruddy already and knew Yom Tov was just teasing me from 'round the corner, so I really didn't think I'd be back at the computer, back at my blog. But there I was, later on Sunday, and again on Monday, and again now, in the wee hours of the morning (Wednesday). My excuse is "You can't keep a [good] writer down" and I'll let you be the judge of that bracketed bit.

Although I'm still bogged down with a very bad cold, and although I have a freelance deadline to contend with and a Rosh Hashana menu deadline to contend with, here I sit. Tap, tap, tapping away.

But I wanted to throw out a question with this post: When you were a child, did your mother ever have reasons to come to your school in the middle of the day, and if you spotted her, were you embarrassed or were you proud?

My mother used to come in to the school every once in a while to bring me something or visit the tuition office, and I recall when I saw her I'd feel such pride, the happiness would want to burst forth from my smiling cheeks. Girls in my class would say to her, "Hi, Mrs. A....." and after she'd leave they'd tell me, "Your mother is so pretty." And she was, and still is, all these years later.

I saw that same happiness and pride today on my children's faces. I came to their school just after noon with Max. Max was going to be an object of show-and-tell, in the schoolyard and nearby park, for my oldest son's class, for a school assignment. That son is somewhat shy, so he didn't seek the limelight as everyone gathered 'round me and Max to play with him, and pet him and ask questions. But I saw him beaming. I was happy to be able to be there, and give my son some welcome attention, and witness it from others.

But it was my other two children who spotted me, while they were out at recess, and came rushing over with their friends to give both me and the dog a wonderful reception. The happiness shone through on their faces and in their voices, and no, their happiness was not just for the dog's presence!

Here was a mother who, for most of their school years and daycare years, was not around the school setting. I was at work, and pining to be at home. And now that I'm home -- for however much longer that will be -- I can pop in at the school at the drop of a hat. And should I see my children in the hallways or schoolyard, that's a bonus for me, and if they spot me, that's a bonus for them.

I know this. Because they've told me.

As for THE FAREWELL TOUR, Pearlies of Wisdom CDs, posters and bookmarks will be sold right after the stick around. There's more coming your way....!