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Family Matters

An outsider would have assumed Ahuva was a sibling, not a cousin. An outsider would have seen a happy jumble of children, and nothing more

Shimon swung from a low branch and then let go, landing in a neat crouch. He stood up, wiped his hands on his pants, and started climbing again.

“Careful,” Chani called to him. She was sitting next to Ma, and they were debating the virtues of adding applesauce and zucchini to potato kugel.

So like his father, I thought as I watched my nephew move from limb to limb with a light-footed sureness.

The rest of Chani’s kids were playing too: Meir and Tzvi tossed a ball, and in the driveway, Penina drew a hopscotch board with chalk for Ahuva. I sat in a far corner where I could watch without participating. An outsider would have assumed Ahuva was a sibling, not a cousin. An outsider would have seen a happy jumble of children, and nothing more.

I leaned back in my chair and looked up at the sky. Sometimes, I thought, you can have a block of time that feels stolen from the past, and free of pain, like now. If I didn’t think too hard, I could pretend that Henny and Menashe were on their way here to pick up Ahuva.

I felt a warm body press against me, and without shifting my gaze, I knew it was Ahuva. I snaked my arm around my niece’s thin frame and pulled her close. Then pain slammed into me, ferocious but familiar; it was already six months since my sister and brother-in-law were gone, killed by a drunk driver on their way home from a wedding. I looked at my mother, my sister-in-law, and the children playing in the backyard, and I knew that, like me, they were all pushing through the pain. Each day added another thin film of healing, fragile and easily torn.

“Do you want to play with Penina?” I whispered into Ahuva’s ear.

“No,” Ahuva said. “She’s always so bossy.”

An autumn breeze blew my hair into my face, and I tucked it behind my ear. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Shimon start to climb the tree again. I thought about asking Ahuva if she wanted to sleep over tonight. Ahuva lived with Yosef and Chani, but sometimes she’d stay with me. My apartment was big enough for a second person, and I had everything Ahuva needed. She could come any time she wanted.

Excerpted from Mishpacha Magazine. To view full version, SUBSCRIBE FOR FREE or LOG IN.

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