“Yes, calling means a lot more — but don’t let that stop you from sending a text if that’s the best you can do!”

Better than Silence [The Next Chapter / Issue 914]

Thank you to Ahava Ehrenpreis for her piece on the gift and curse of people texting instead of making a phone call. I wanted to add something. I have a handful of little kids and I’ve been finding it difficult to juggle all the balls. When I think about someone and want to reach out, I know that calling is so much more valuable. The problem is, I’m so overwhelmed that I don’t make that call — and to be honest, often when people call me, it sometimes feels like a burden on my end, too. If I’m with the kids, it’s hard to talk as they clamor for my attention, and if I’m not with the kids, I have so little time to myself that I do feel I’m giving it up by spending time on the phone.

After spending a few years in the thought process of, “I should make that call,” but never making it, I’ve come to realize that right now, doing my best means sending a simple text message. When thinking of others, I used to either call or nothing, but after being in a needy place myself sometimes, I realized that a text message from someone who I know can’t currently make the time to call, still means so much more than resounding silence. So yes, calling means a lot more — but don’t let that stop you from sending a text if that’s the best you can do!

A.L.

Sheltered and Sophisticated [P.O.V / Issue 913]

In the article about whether or not to shelter your kids, the third point of view said that “Children who grew up with firm, high barriers may be uninformed and unsophisticated.” I beg to differ.

My children are sheltered, sheltered from screens, and sheltered from other technology. Baruch Hashem, they’re still very sophisticated. My nine-year-old surprised his teacher by rattling off all the presidents. My boys know all the states and their capitals. They know plenty of Jewish and American history.

Instead of spending time on technology, my kids read, play board games, use their imaginations, and remember lots of facts that they come across. Thanks to their grandparents buying the kids the board game Scout It Out, the kids (and I) learned lots of facts about the states and the world.

My kids read the Treeo cover to cover and learn facts and opinions from the articles. Naki Radio has content that includes history and education. Does this make us sheltered? Unsophisticated?

Chana Bracha Alcabes

Las Vegas, Nevada

It’s a Gift from Hashem [Heart Work / Issue 913]

I found many helpful and validating tidbits in your tefillah piece. Any chizuk you give in this area is so valuable since it draws attention and helps us focus on this topic.

While I understand and appreciate the value of feminine emotion and the important fire and fuel they provide, especially when connecting to Hashem, I think you missed an opportunity to provide a foundational understanding of tefillah before getting carried away in a cloud of emotion and connection sound bites.

Per Rav Chaim Soloveitchik in Hilchos Tefillah, the avodah of tefillah is, at its core, 1) a conscious knowledge and awe that you stand before Hashem, 2) concentrating and trying to focus on understanding the words and their true meaning. The deep and fiery connection characteristic of the Yamim Noraim which we all so deeply desire, is often an outgrowth of this avodah.

Most importantly, it’s not within our power, it’s a gift from Hashem. What is in our control and is our responsibility is to have a conscious understanding of to Whom you are praying and the words you are saying. You can ask Hashem to give you that pleasure of connection, but it’s freeing to understand that the tears and deep feelings are an outgrowth of a logical process.

Sara G.

A Validating Read [Bridging the Distance / Issue 913]

I’d like to thank you for the article talking about mothers who didn’t provide for their children's emotional needs in childhood, and how their daughters were able to heal and move past their difficult upbringing.

When I first saw the title of the article, I assumed it would be about women who lost a mother at a young age, and I nearly skipped the article. Although losing a mother is an extremely painful and tragic challenge to endure, there’s a completely different element of shame, trauma, and struggle in being hurt, abandoned, neglected, or abused by the one person supposed to love and care for you the most.

I found the article an extremely validating read. While I’ve been in many years of therapy and am constantly working on my parenting and relationship with my children, exerting tremendous effort to ensure that their childhood is vastly different from mine, I still gleaned new insight from Tamar Aboudi’s thoughtful article, and I even found myself making a practical change in how I handled my daughter’s somewhat smothering need for love and affection after realizing how my reaction to her needs stems from my own trauma.

Thank you for raising this topic, bringing awareness, and hopefully helping to change many lives of the next generation for the better.

Name Withheld

Is It Good Enough? [Bridging the Distance / Issue 913]

I grew up in what people would call a dysfunctional home, and so the article about emotionally neglectful mothers really resonated with me. My parents divorced, and my mother was emotionally unwell, while my father was a very passive personality. From a young age I was bounced around without a real place to call home. I sometimes think of it as a living orphan.

Baruch Hashem, I’ve seen healthiness by watching other families, and I’m so grateful for everything everyone has done for me. I’m blessed with three beautiful children who are my life. I hope to continue to grow my family in the healthiest, most wholesome way possible. I so badly want to give them a healthy sense of self, of family, of being an eved Hashem.

I definitely try super hard. But sometimes I am afraid it’s not enough. I’m not sure if I’m plagued with guilt because of what I went through or if I’m genuinely doing a good enough job. The emotions I’m currently experiencing through raising these precious neshamos are forcing me to dig very deep inside myself.

And what I see is sometimes scary — with strong tendencies toward my mother’s personality (in a healthier version). I know most of my thoughts and fears are irrational, but there’s always that tiny voice inside that says you could do better. Is that going to live inside me forever? Is there a way to remove that?

I constantly think that I’ve been handed a rough package in life, and I can take all that I have in me, all the tools I’ve developed, to help others see the beauty inside themselves. I can help them build themselves from inside out and get the right support they need to overcome their hurdles.

Anonymous

After Midnight [Keep or Lose / Issue 913]

In your piece with panelists who described things they wished could be changed. Mr. Spilman, a caterer in Lakewood, wrote, “I wish everyone would make their weddings with a straight meal like the chassidishe crowd does it,” meaning he wishes people wouldn’t break up the meal with dance brackets.

As someone who is chassidish, I, along with my family and friends, find it rude and disrespectful to have family members travel two hours in rush-hour traffic to get to the chuppah on time, only to have to wait at least an extra hour before they can dance with the baal simchah because the meal is being served. This means I don’t get home until after midnight. Is that fair?

To add insult to injury, Mr. Spilman writes, “And that means guests who come from further away don’t get to eat supper.” With all due respect, I’m sure your food is delicious, but my point in giving up my night to come to Lakewood or Monsey, or vice versa, is to dance with the baal simchah, not to eat supper. I know from my chassidish friends that in Boro Park, some caterers aren’t even giving you an option anymore to break up the meal with dance brackets. A meal without interruptions saves them money as they can send the waiters home earlier.

Because of this system, I stopped going to weddings in Lakewood or Monsey when I’m only going to say mazel tov. 9:15/9:30 is a sensible time to arrive. You can leave after rush hour, stay at the wedding until 9:45, dance with the baalei simchah, and be back in Boro Park by 11:00. With a straight meal, I’m not getting to dance until much later and not getting home until after midnight.

T.K.

Boro Park

Breaking the Pattern [Words Unspoken / Issue 912]

Dear “Problematic” 20-year-old Who Is Waiting Until She Heals Before Starting Shidduchim,

You know all those articles, in the magazines, the ones about children who grew up too fast because they had to be the parent, the ones about parental anger, depression, or extreme anxiety, that leave the children and spouses confused and afraid and so, so broken?

You’re breaking that pattern.

You’re one brave girl, to be able to look yourself in the mirror, and face some (not pretty, perhaps, but potentially beautiful) parts in yourself and work on it in advance!

By doing so before entering relationships with the people who will b’ezras Hashem mean the world to you, you’re doing them the ultimate favor.

When you’re caught in your own bubble of pain, there is so much potential to unintentionally hurt and misunderstand your loved ones. But when a person is aware and willing to do the work, then with Hashem’s help, they create meaningful and secure attachments with their loved ones.

How healing!

Hatzlachah on your journey,

M.S.

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 916)