“One of the hardest things to do is watch someone you love endure pain, especially if the person is your child”

Permission to Mourn [Letter from Sem / Issue 845]

When I read this piece by a woman with a son off the derech, I couldn’t believe how the author was describing my feelings and experience. There are many levels to the pain a parent feels when a child decides to stop being religiously observant. One of these, which isn’t often addressed, is the feeling of alienation from frum society, that I “don’t belong,” nor do I really want to, having been “irrevocably altered by the experience.”

Thank you to the writer for giving me the emotional “permission” to mourn. My sadness can be triggered in various situations, such as when I see boys walking to shul with their fathers on Shabbos, or when one of my son’s friends gets married, or becomes a father.

One thought that gives me comfort is something I read (in these pages): that we, as parents of kids who have stopped being religious, are going through our own tailor-made journey, just as our children are on their own journey.

I’m not sure how to end this, because the end hasn’t yet happened. Both my husband and myself straddle the line between acceptance and love for my son, describing him as “at this point not observant.”

I’m constantly working on self-acceptance and carving out a place within myself where I feel comfortable being a member of the larger frum society. Your letter brings home the realization that there are so many of us, a subset within the frum world. Let’s all remember that none of us is alone.

Name Withheld

Shattered Dreams [Letter from Sem / Issue 845]

Dear Seminary Friend,

Did you read my mind?  I recently took out my album from seminary, from around the same time you were there, as I was looking for a picture a child of mine needed for a school project.

At first, it was fun flipping through the pages and seeing lots of faces of old friends and adventures, but at some point, I began to think very similar thoughts that you wrote about in your piece, and I shut the album midway through.

I was, as we all were, young and idealistic, excited to embark on this next stage of Life. I really did learn a lot in seminary, made a bunch of new friends, and had a great experience. Before I knew it, I was married and became blessedly busy with young children while balancing college and working part-time, as we tried to live the kollel life.

Then the kids grew older, but my husband and I didn’t necessarily grow wiser.  We raised them with love and affection and what we thought were the noblest of ideals, while firmly holding on to the kedushah of a bayis b’Yisrael. Then came the teen years. No one prepared us for that, even though once upon a short time ago, we were also teens.  However, raising teenage children is quite different from growing up as a teen, especially in a new world environment with outside influences that were hard to keep out, despite the spiritual protective fences around our home. Combine that with challenging personalities, our lack of awareness of mental health issues, damaging teachers (of which we also had no clue), and we had some struggling and very angry teens and young adults.

One of the hardest things to do is watch someone you love endure pain, especially if the person is your child. You wring your hands, you cry, you consult with others, you consult with G-d, you blame, you shame, you rage, and you cry some more, and you feel like you’re living on another planet. Helplessness isn’t an adequate description of the feelings that encompass you as you watch your precious child go deeper into the dark abyss, polluting the air you breathe with the black energy of his tortured soul. So much for protective fences and living your ideals of building a Jewish home. It became more about staying afloat in this new world called Your Life, about not drowning while still caring for all the other people in the home.

It took its toll and impacted the rest of the family.  And yes, we’re still doing “cleanup.”  However, at some point, I realized that I also have a life to live, as do my children, including our child in pain. We can’t change what happened.  We can’t blame others, or ourselves, for what happened. It happened.

Embrace your child, embrace the pain with him. Hold his hand as much as he allows, even if that means holding your own hand when he refuses yours.

There is a grieving process that occurs with this whole OTD phenomenon. To acknowledge that is the first step in learning how to live again.  Did I say goodbye to the starry-eyed dreams of my younger seminary self?  Maybe, or perhaps they just took on a different form? Did I cry and cry and cry and then parent the other children the same way you did, from PTSD and a determination not to repeat the assumed mistakes of the past? Yes, oh yes.

But then something else happened along this very long and still evolving way. It is a wonderful word that looks different in each person. It’s long and slow in coming.  It happens when you least expect it and then you cry some more when it finally does. It’s called Healing. Scoop your battered heart up from the floor and traverse the thorns and the jagged rocks with others who know the path.

Slowly, oh so slowly, you and your child will find your footing, together, or not.  But let him know that you’re there, waiting with open arms. And maybe, just maybe, one day you’ll see that he has emerged from that forest in his own way and in his own time. Softly, quietly, gently.

The End is just the Beginning. And that’s a lesson I’m oh so grateful to have learned, even if I didn’t learn it in seminary.

Your Seminary Friend

My Greatest Nachas [Inbox / Issue 845]

In response to I Wish I Could Share My Name who wrote an Inbox letter from the viewpoint of a daughter with ASD, I want to say: Thank you so much for writing in and for sharing your perspective. As a parent of a son with ASD, it can be difficult to understand life from his perspective. At times I get lost in the difficulties my family face and sadly miss what my son is going through himself.

Your voice is so important, and parents like me need reminders. We need insight because some people with ASD don’t have the capabilities to explain, to cry, to express themselves. It’s left to the parents to try and make sense of these children's inner world, and I’m sure we often fall short of understanding. You’ve opened my eyes that much more to how hard life with autism can be.

On the other hand, I’d like for you to know that from my perspective, as hard as having a child with ASD is, it’s that much more joyful and meaningful. There are moments with my son that are some of my greatest sources of nachas.

When he first chose to hold my hand and call me Mommy when he was four, or when he made a brachah for the first time, there is honestly no greater joy I’ve experienced than to see him accomplish something that was so difficult for him, for him to choose to connect with me despite everything seemingly pulling him to disconnect.

Those memories are seared into my heart as the most precious and special of times. And you, writing this heartfelt and genuine letter, bring me such nachas. I’m sure it was difficult, but you wrote it so eloquently and with so much feeling. Please keep talking, we’re listening… Im yirtzeh Hashem you should speedily find your match, someone who truly knows, respects, and loves every single part of you.

A Mom Who Wishes She Could Know Your Name

Mothers Suffer When Their Child Suffers [Inbox / Issue 845]

Dear “Sister” with ASD,

I read your letter about the serial Meltdown, in which you shared your perspective of it, as a person with ASD. I understood your feelings, since I, too, am in shidduchim, and I, too, struggle with a diagnosis, though mine is of OCD. Every time I read an article discussing OCD, I also feel like it makes us look really bad. But I know that every diagnosis comes with a span of all different types of people, some on the higher end and some on the lower end, and I’ve worked really hard not to take these reflections personally. This is one woman’s story, not yours and not anyone else’s.

What I did want to add is that I think every mother out there suffers when her child suffers. No, they’re not frustrated with their kids when the child’s disability makes things difficult; they’re more frustrated with their inability to make things easier for their child. I know I speak for my own mother. She helped me so much over the years, and it’s been so difficult for her. Maybe not as difficult as for me, but definitely painful. I hope that when I’m also a mother, I’ll be like her and like the mother in this diary serial, able to empathize with my child and try to help despite my own pain.

Wishing that for you as well,

Your “Sister” with OCD

Not Only Pain [Feel Your Way Well / Issue 845]

Kol hakavod to the Family First team and to Russy Tendler for highlighting the important topic of the mind-body connection. The article was informative and comprehensive. As an internal medicine physician practicing primary care and women’s health medicine, I see patients with mind-body illnesses every day. While the article focused on various pain syndromes, I want to point out the following for the benefit of the readers.

Although Dr. Sarno discussed chronic pain illnesses (for example, back or neck pain), there are many other ailments that do not necessarily involve pain, yet can be explained as a mind-body illness. The nervous system affects every cell of the body. As a result, the mind’s effect on the body (via the nervous system, which connects the mind to the network of nerves that course through the entire body) can include a huge variety of illnesses, not all of them involving pain. Fatigue, dizziness, brain fog, feeling faint, vomiting, nausea, digestive issues, numbness, urinary problems, tics, and hives (among many other symptoms) can all be attributed to a mind-body illness.

As was correctly mentioned in the article, it’s crucial to evaluate any physical ailment with standard medical testing to rule out a potentially dangerous illness. However, when modern medicine cannot explain or properly treat an ailment, it makes sense to shift gears and consider a mind-body explanation for one’s symptoms.

With blessings of good health,

Tzipora S. Wolff, MD

Internal Medicine and Women’s Health at Leumit Health Services and Bishvilaych Women’s Wellness Center

A Real Sacrifice [The Road Taken / Issue 844]

I’d like to comment on Malky Giniger’s personal piece, “No Better Return,” about her decision not to promote herself or her career through social media.  I was awed and inspired by the sacrifices she implemented in regard to technology.

Considering the fact that she’s in the entertainment industry, her determination to stay off social media is truly commendable.

May it bring her much brachah and hatzlachah.

D.F.

The Path of the BT [Oh, Brave New World / Issue 842]

Thank you for your article about baalei teshuvah, “Oh, Brave New World.” It did a good job of discussing some of the issues BTs face. Here are two thoughts I’d like to share.

Many discussions about BTs focus on our difficulties and deficiencies. Yes, BTs face issues that FFBs don’t, perhaps most importantly, the deficiency in our Torah education. However, those difficulties and deficiencies often put a BT on a path of permanent growth-seeking, which is perhaps the primary attitude that a Jew needs to have. Of course, not all BTs stay on the lifelong growth track, but a high percent do, because the need for growth is apparent to them.

The second thought is the improper focus on culture and lifestyle. These are important issues, and advice on how to navigate in the frum community is always welcome. However, Torah is not primarily about culture and lifestyle. It’s about using your thoughts, emotions, and actions to develop a deep connection to Hashem and to your fellow Jews. The brilliance of Hashem’s Torah is that it gives us the means to develop those connections regardless of our situation. Our focus on culture and lifestyles often distracts us from our purpose in This World.

Perhaps if we proceed together on the path of growth and connection, we can truly reach the Brave New World.

Mark Frankel

Administrator of http://www.beyondbt.com

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 847)