Unrequited Dreams

This past weekend,I attended a small family gathering,a dinner at a family oriented restaurant to celebrate the passing of the bar of my little brother.The focus was on my brother to congratulate him on his hard work,effort and success.At the beginning of the meal, my uncle who I do not see all that often as families seem to move apart from one another over time.My uncle is only sixteen years older than me,so he was a teen when I was born.I am the oldest grandchild , the first grandchild of that generation.My parents married very young and I entered the world when they were 19 and 20 years old.My father had lived on a kibbutz in Israel for a couple of years before I was born.My parent's dream was to return to that kibbutz with me when I was one years old.
As life happens,the return to the kibbutz never happened and I vaguely remember it in the context of the continuous cantankerous marital discord that I witnessed during my childhood, the subject would come up as if somehow if that dream had come to fruition the layers of unhappiness,sadness,discontent would melt away.Many years have passed, my parents went their separate ways and unfortunately all that I recall of their relationship is the constant fighting and my fears and confusion and wishing they would stop.I have virtually no memories of a peaceful loving partnership, no tangible evidence of any of their shared dreams,that is, not until this weekend.
At dinner,at this family gathering,my uncle called me over.He said he had something for me.I thought it odd as it was not my celebratory day,after all it was my brother's day.My uncle slowly pulled out of the pocket of his camel colored corduroy jacket,a new appearing passport.I had this strange moment of deja vu and I knew without any doubt what this was.I had tears in my eyes and said , that is me as baby.With a bittersweet nod , he said yes.I opened the green little book and sure enough ,there was one year old me, like a little doe with bright passport picture lights flashing in her baby eyes,sitting on my not quite adult mom's lap. the passport was meant to take us to Israel, to the kibbutz dream .Oddly ,all week I have been a state of extreme hope and optimism, thinking clearly about my dreams and what would truly give me happiness at this stage of my life, how to achieve realization of my own unrequited dreams.Until now,I had no tangible evidence that my parents shared any dreams at all, it seemed to me that my beginnings started with two very young people who had a very tenuous angry partnership.Holding my passport of infancy in my hands and seeing the one year old me sitting on my mom's lap as part of their dreams to plan and share a life together helps me feel more whole and hopeful , that my beginnings did have hope, something for me to continue to nurture.I see my beginnings as different,I see myself in literally a light I did not know existed before.....





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