Memories Triggered.
I read today of the Bar Mitzvah of aunt_barb 's nephew. My own family has a hodge-podge of faiths from animism to Islam to Southern Baptists. My own faith is Judaism. Andie and I were married in the Jewish tradition and while it was not quite the production of my aunt's wedding some seven years before, I found it both moving and literally meaningful. Our son Benjamin was raised in a way that allowed him to learn of many faiths and we felt that he should ultimately choose his own. At the age of twelve he became interested in learning the history of his rather odd heritage half Mongol, a quarter Lutheran German and a quarter Jewish German. He learned that nearly half of his mother's family died in extermination camps at Buchenwald during the Nazi regime, that some of his relatives on his mother's side were SchutzStaffel (SS) and responsible for the deaths of Jews and others and of the odd circumstances of the conversion of my ancestor some 800 years ago. But, I think what drove home the essence of his unique heritage was a summer spent with his uncle and aunt who were Kibbutzim on the Syrian-Israeli border. It was upon his return that he asked to be Bar Mitzvahed as a symbol both of his entering manhood and as a celebration of his acceptance of his faith and his heritage. As he prepared for the ceremony that was to be held I found myself assigned to the intelligence staff at the Soviet "desk" of CinCPAC (Commander in Chief Pacific) then under the command of Admiral William Crowe. I thought that this staff position would allow me to have a family life for a while. But, events in 1983 found me assigned to a fledgling Special Operations subsection of the J2 shop. We were dealing then, with several things, there were growing issues in the Philippines with an insurgency in the Southern part of that nation, instablility of the Marcos government and the new close ties between the Soviet Union and the Republic of Vietnam which seemed to be on the cusp of expanding into other less stable parts of its neighbors to the West. Another thing that came to the fore was the Soviet presence in Afghanistan and the efforts of the Afghanis to fight them. At the same time, some of the people "of interest" in the Middle East" were also looking in the direction of Afghanistan. We were tasked with everything from the Persian Gulf to the West Coast of the Americas. So, it was, I found myself once again traveling and trying as best I could to keep knowledge of my family from view of ruthless people who were intelligent and resourceful. So, Ben attended his last year of Junior High, Andie taught classical literature/languages at Punahou High School and I tried to keep my ties to them out of sight.
The date for Ben's Bar Mitzvah was set during one of my trips and I made a rare promise to be there for it. However, the military is heedless of the promises of lowly staff officers who have just barely attained field grade. I was sent to Afghanistan to "observe and report" on many things including the leadership of the Mujahideen that would be used as a cross check of the less than reliable data collected by the Central Intelligence Agency's "field" personnel. I would be "out of country" on the date we'd originally set and I sat down with Ben and Rabbi Julius Nodel to see about a date that would fall after I was to return. Well, no plan survives contact with the enemy and it was nearly too late when I arrived in Karachi Pakistan on a flight that would take me to the UAE then Rome, to Heathrow and then a direct flight on a Concorde that cost nearly a month's pay and from there another hop to SFO and from there to Hawaii, arriving the morning of the Bar Mitzvah. So it was, that I arrived in Honolulu, just minutes ahead of the appointed hour, cleaning up, shaving and changing in the NorthWest Airlines WorldClub there at the airport I rushed off to the synagogue arriving just after Andie and Ben stepped into the Synagogue. I stood for awhile collecting myself and reflecting upon the meaning of this day in terms of tradition and of life. My heart was pounding as I removed my beret and put the blue kippah that I used to use for celebrations on my head. I'd taken a bit more time than I'd thought in my reflections and the ceremony had started. As I came into the Synagogue I saw my son's eyes light up. Whenever he was happy he wore the exact expression his mother did and their faces were so alike when he was a child. That day I noticed that there were indeed differences as his jaw line was becoming a bit less delicate. But he still had his mother's smile and eyes. I stood for awhile at the back of the Synagogue until there was a pause and quickly took a seat next to my wife in violation of tradition but it felt right that we should be together at this time and the Rabbi would understand. His chosen passage of the Torah was the story of the covenant of Abraham. It was long and I would not know how appropriate till much later in our lives. Ben would die with a book by Rabbi Moses Maimonides in his hands, his eyes probably riveted upon whatever passage he was studying in his quest to become a Rabbi with plans to emigrate to Israel like his uncle.
But, at the time all that there was, was a joy and a sadness that Andie and I shared as our boy became a man in the eyes of God. We were happy to see the moment, and to celebrate it, but it marked childhood's end for him and was a harbinger that our boy would soon have to face the world on his own. Yes, we had too and done alright but the difficulties of our road were something we prepared him for and at the same time tried to prevent him from having to face.
After the ceremony, Ben ran up to me, and hugged me. Nothing to spectacular there, but my usually calm demeanor cracked for a few moments as I picked him up (he was still only 5'1") off the ground and held him high like I'd done when he was much younger (just three years before). He said, "You came." I said, "I don't make promises unless I intend to keep them." He smiled and hugged me again. In his short life, I'd only made him three promises. The first when he was told I was his biological father, the second that I'd attend his Bar Mitzvah and the third that I'd attend his high school graduation.
Jewish celebrations are never complete without food and we noshed on food after the ceremony and then went out to a very adult restaurant, the Cannon's Club at Ft. DeRussy with our friends. Ben had always been a part of our social circle but that day was his day and his father let him take his place at the head of the table with Andie to his right I took a place that night to Andie's right for it was also her night. She'd played a large part in raising him. My son did me proud, leading the conversation but never dominating it, he was in pretty intellectually stimulating company with only two military men there, my ex brother-in-law and I. His grandparents showed up briefly, my mother-in-law thought we were too "Bohemian" as well as intellectually and generally beneath her and my mom and dad sent their regards from Washington State where my dad was in a two year Graduate Management Program (he only had a high school education). But we had a great time. We moved the party to another location where we could all talk. The night ended well after midnight and we all walked to Eggs and Things for breakfast before heading home. I remember very little after undressing, showering and hitting the bed. Apparently, from the comment that I got that "things worked even in your sleep" it was a very enjoyable homecoming. I stayed another day so that I could give my Penelope (Andie) the homecoming she actually deserved. My son and I spent the next day together doing at the beach then to a video game parlor after which we went home to gather up the whole family and go to a movie.
It was a great time and worth everything in money, frustration, patience, worry and effort it took to get home. I wish now that I had pictures, but Andie and I always thought that this would be part of what we'd share at this point in our lives and we knew we'd always be able to picture every moment, every look and every detail in our minds and to talk about when we grew old. I miss them. I visited Ben's resting place in the hills above Sedona this summer. I never thought I would survive them.
The date for Ben's Bar Mitzvah was set during one of my trips and I made a rare promise to be there for it. However, the military is heedless of the promises of lowly staff officers who have just barely attained field grade. I was sent to Afghanistan to "observe and report" on many things including the leadership of the Mujahideen that would be used as a cross check of the less than reliable data collected by the Central Intelligence Agency's "field" personnel. I would be "out of country" on the date we'd originally set and I sat down with Ben and Rabbi Julius Nodel to see about a date that would fall after I was to return. Well, no plan survives contact with the enemy and it was nearly too late when I arrived in Karachi Pakistan on a flight that would take me to the UAE then Rome, to Heathrow and then a direct flight on a Concorde that cost nearly a month's pay and from there another hop to SFO and from there to Hawaii, arriving the morning of the Bar Mitzvah. So it was, that I arrived in Honolulu, just minutes ahead of the appointed hour, cleaning up, shaving and changing in the NorthWest Airlines WorldClub there at the airport I rushed off to the synagogue arriving just after Andie and Ben stepped into the Synagogue. I stood for awhile collecting myself and reflecting upon the meaning of this day in terms of tradition and of life. My heart was pounding as I removed my beret and put the blue kippah that I used to use for celebrations on my head. I'd taken a bit more time than I'd thought in my reflections and the ceremony had started. As I came into the Synagogue I saw my son's eyes light up. Whenever he was happy he wore the exact expression his mother did and their faces were so alike when he was a child. That day I noticed that there were indeed differences as his jaw line was becoming a bit less delicate. But he still had his mother's smile and eyes. I stood for awhile at the back of the Synagogue until there was a pause and quickly took a seat next to my wife in violation of tradition but it felt right that we should be together at this time and the Rabbi would understand. His chosen passage of the Torah was the story of the covenant of Abraham. It was long and I would not know how appropriate till much later in our lives. Ben would die with a book by Rabbi Moses Maimonides in his hands, his eyes probably riveted upon whatever passage he was studying in his quest to become a Rabbi with plans to emigrate to Israel like his uncle.
But, at the time all that there was, was a joy and a sadness that Andie and I shared as our boy became a man in the eyes of God. We were happy to see the moment, and to celebrate it, but it marked childhood's end for him and was a harbinger that our boy would soon have to face the world on his own. Yes, we had too and done alright but the difficulties of our road were something we prepared him for and at the same time tried to prevent him from having to face.
After the ceremony, Ben ran up to me, and hugged me. Nothing to spectacular there, but my usually calm demeanor cracked for a few moments as I picked him up (he was still only 5'1") off the ground and held him high like I'd done when he was much younger (just three years before). He said, "You came." I said, "I don't make promises unless I intend to keep them." He smiled and hugged me again. In his short life, I'd only made him three promises. The first when he was told I was his biological father, the second that I'd attend his Bar Mitzvah and the third that I'd attend his high school graduation.
Jewish celebrations are never complete without food and we noshed on food after the ceremony and then went out to a very adult restaurant, the Cannon's Club at Ft. DeRussy with our friends. Ben had always been a part of our social circle but that day was his day and his father let him take his place at the head of the table with Andie to his right I took a place that night to Andie's right for it was also her night. She'd played a large part in raising him. My son did me proud, leading the conversation but never dominating it, he was in pretty intellectually stimulating company with only two military men there, my ex brother-in-law and I. His grandparents showed up briefly, my mother-in-law thought we were too "Bohemian" as well as intellectually and generally beneath her and my mom and dad sent their regards from Washington State where my dad was in a two year Graduate Management Program (he only had a high school education). But we had a great time. We moved the party to another location where we could all talk. The night ended well after midnight and we all walked to Eggs and Things for breakfast before heading home. I remember very little after undressing, showering and hitting the bed. Apparently, from the comment that I got that "things worked even in your sleep" it was a very enjoyable homecoming. I stayed another day so that I could give my Penelope (Andie) the homecoming she actually deserved. My son and I spent the next day together doing at the beach then to a video game parlor after which we went home to gather up the whole family and go to a movie.
It was a great time and worth everything in money, frustration, patience, worry and effort it took to get home. I wish now that I had pictures, but Andie and I always thought that this would be part of what we'd share at this point in our lives and we knew we'd always be able to picture every moment, every look and every detail in our minds and to talk about when we grew old. I miss them. I visited Ben's resting place in the hills above Sedona this summer. I never thought I would survive them.