Mazel Tov to My Son

On Saturday, my son became a bar mitzvah, taking on the mantle of Jewish adulthood. I couldn’t be prouder—and I couldn’t be more thankful for the family and friends who came together to support him.

He led the prayer service with cool authority, rocked his Torah portion, and was both informative and funny in his speech—testament to his dedication and hours of practice. More than that, however, he was also gracious in receiving gifts, and in welcoming young people from several areas of his life—school friends, congregation friends, and relatives—to enjoy themselves together at the reception.

Yes, I’m kvelling—a Yiddish term my non-Jewish spouse has become fond of, and which means “bursting with pride.” I realize my own parental bias here, and make no claim that his bar mitzvah was any better than anyone else’s—but I would be remiss if, on my parenting blog, I neglected to say something about how I felt as he reached this milestone in his life (and in ours).

It was an extraordinary day for our family, yet one that was simultaneously ordinary in that it was part of a tradition hundreds of years long, repeated by countless young people. We were blessed to have the help and good wishes of family and friends near and far.

It is daunting to reach this next phase of parenthood, as my son’s desire for greater independence vies with our protective parental instincts and greater life experience. The way through teenagerhood will be a challenging journey for all of us, as it is for so many families. I am strengthened and comforted, however, having seen what he did for his bar mitzvah and catching a glimpse of the man he is growing to be. I am extraordinarily proud to be one of his moms.