Seeing DB

I met up with DB as he was coming up the steps leaving the kotel.

This is what I wrote in my notebook after saying goodbye to him and sitting by the kotel:


Walking down to the kotel
Hoping to catch the final ceremony
Delayed by traffic
Passed many American boys – only one familiar face from Boston
Waited for DB at the top of the steps
He came up alone
Gave me a hug
This was my son
He gave ME a kiss too
This is my son
All these boys coming up the steps
They could’ve been my sons
I’m old enough to be their mom
I’m old enough
My son is one of THOSE kids.
In NCSY, getting inspired
He looked sad
“Miss the guys,” he said trying not to cry
This is my son
Gives me hope.


I thought about it some more. I have a deeply sensitive son. He wants to cry, but the man in him tells him he’s not allowed. He only cries with me. He must have felt something this summer. I pick him up this morning (it is already past 2 am!). I hope he will talk to me. Tell me what he felt. What he learned. What he thought about.
My son likes to be inspired. I hope this summer inspired him.

That was my son. He’s one of the boys…