I Miss You

Yesterday would have been Bubie Claire’s birthday. I decided not to ruin the celebrations in the fountains as we danced to the beat of the removal of Bush.

It’s been more than a year since I lost her. Words cannot express the sadness I still feel within my heart over her loss. My life will never be the same without her. I still find myself reaching for my cell phone to call her when life is unfair and when things are beyond amazing. Or when I have Italian food or a cupcake on Valentine's Day and on and on. The loss is a pain that continues to plague me.

If I could talk to her today, here’s what I would say:

Dear Claire,

It’s been quite the year since you’ve been gone. I am still living in Philadelphia. Despite my feelings towards this city and state, we selected Hillary as our chosen one in the primaries last year. It was an amazing experience hearing her speak at UPENN. You loved her almost as much as I did. She was the best vote I ever made in New York to elect her as Senator. While she didn’t win this time, you and Zaidie can take comfort knowing we elected a man who reminds me of Zaidie with his brilliance, ideas, and willingness to triumph over adversity and unite all people for the good of America.

Speaking of UPENN, I started a PhD program there this past fall. I know, I know. Always the scholar, you would utter when I would arrive home with a plan for another degree. It has been an amazing experience. I sat my QE early at the request of my academic advisor and I am at the level of the third year based on my previous experiences on what I know and think about reproductive issues in America. (Wow! The aroma is sweeter than the chemistry ranking in high school.) I can honestly say a lot of that comes from you and mother having frank conversations alongside of me about the patriarchy, gender roles, and abortion. Geesh, you loved to talk about abortion more than most. I certainly appreciated them then, and even more now. Thank you for making feminism a part of nearly every meal discussion we had together or time we spent talking about domestic and foreign politics. We weren’t like other families, and for that, I am even more grateful today than ever. And thank you for learning to become a stronger feminist by accepting the granddaughter who had no desire to let a man “win” by having babies. (I’ve changed some thoughts on that, but you grew too from those days. Sadly, you will never know my thoughts changed because I wouldn't give up the ghost even in your last days. How could I? I spent 15 years getting you to change your mind, retrenchment seemed offensive at that point.)

I have no intention of finishing the latest doctorate. It’s not that PENN isn’t great. It is. While it’s no Columbia or Amherst, it’s been an amazing journey for me none the less. Having spent Kol Nidre at UPENN Hillel this year, I feel larger than life on the PENN campus with my classmates and friends. I was home for the first time in years!(And yes, I fled the synagogue into Rittenhouse Square during Yitzkor the next day because I could not stomach thinking about you and my other grandparents anymore.)

Yet, it’s not for me. You and Mother repeatedly shared your concerns with MH and me about law school. You, especially, had seen too much with Zaidie and what the political side of life is like for a spouse and his family. MH promised you he would never be a lawyer and today, he’s not. However, I never made you that promise. I always said I would go to graduate school and make you proud. When I turned down my first opportunity for a PhD when the letter came in from UCSB, followed closely by others, I knew you were disappointed that I wanted to pursue something else first.

That decision has served me well to this day. To that end, I still don’t want to be a PhD at PENN. It’s not what I want to do at this point in my life. I want to go to law school. It’s what I have wanted to do since I finished CUMS. We talked a bit about four years before you left us, and you still seemed uninterested in this plan for me. But, that time you said something different to me. Something I never thought you would say.

You said you hoped whatever I wished for would work out. That whatever dream I chased would end with happiness. That my happiness was the one thing you missed seeing since the day you watched me come home from the hospital. I know that some of that had something to do with the person I was dating at the time and that despite you always being on my team; you did not want me to marry him. I will never fully know the reasons why, but I know what I have always known: you’ve always known better for me. And that time it was no different!

I have thought a lot about why you did not want me to go to law school. Those reasons do not apply at this time. For I am not married and I am not with child nor am I going to be an attorney attorney. So it’s not the same as it was for you. Will I ever have those dreams? I hope so. At the minimum, I will honor your request to marry a Jewish man who will love me so much that he would have allowed you to come live with us until your dying day for you made me promise a million times that (1) I would be the one to take care of you when you became too feeble to do it yourself and (2) he would not only love me enough to respect how much you mattered to me, he would be the best grandson-in-law that you ever had and would fight me to spend time with you because he worshipped you more than I did. (A task I am not sure could have ever been possible but you loved the notion of such in your head.)

So, on this birthday today, I am here to tell you that all my hopes and dreams are coming true. I am going to sit the LSATs later this year and see what happens. I am going to get married before I turn 40 and I am going to have a baby that we’ll name for your mother and sister. I won’t name him or her Channa/Claire Chaim/Clark because there can never be another you. It’s simply not possible. What we can hope for is that s/he has big brown eyes like you and we love him/her as much as you loved me.

I miss you more today than yesterday.

With love,

M.D. (Her nickname for me)