Mother’s Day can be rough when your mom is no longer here. So is that one day you want to ask mom “where’s my social security card?”
I’m probably the only adult who doesn’t have a copy of her card. I never gave it much thought as I’ve had the number memorized since I was a teenager. When the SBA required a colored copy of it, I assumed I’d find it in one of the boxes of papers that we packed when my mom passed away.
I discovered a ticket stub from the 10pm admittance of the February 24, 1978 King Tut exhibit at LACMA.
I found a story I wrote at Mirman School that said “If I were a grownup…the thing I’d like the best is to be my own boss.”
I came across a sheet of lined paper that had notes my mom had written about my dad’s mom’s family.
It said that they lived in Ekaterinoslav and fled to Quebec on the ship Scandinavia in 1913.
Until this moment I never knew my dad’s family was from Ukraine.
So, I naturally began to research this city. I learned that while my great grandparents were living there, the chief rabbi was Rabbi Levi Yitzchak Schneerson, of righteous memory, was considered to be one of the greatest Talmudic and Kabbalistic scholars of his generation. His son was Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson, the Rebbe, of righteous memory, leader of the Chabad-Lubavitcher movement.
I learn about Judaism with my Chabad of Bel Air rabbi, Rabbi Mentz.
My mother wondered why I took an interest in studying at this small shul. I told her that I felt connected to it.
Now I know why. It’s in my DNA. L'dor v'dor.
Ekaterinoslav is now called Dnipro. This Mother’s Day, please take a moment to think about their orphans and how they’ll never be able to reach out to their moms for help.
If you’re still lucky enough to have your mom, honor and appreciate her.