Planting Tears

Have you ever heard the phrase “הזורעים בדמעה ברינה יקצורו” “Those who sow in tears will reap with joy” (tehillem/psalm 126 passuk/verse 5)?

Well I have, many many times. Have I ever paid it much attention? Maybe, but not really.

 In the last few weeks (just kidding, months. Just kidding, years) I have cried a lot of tears.

On January 22, 2018 I cried tears of joy when I held my fourth daughter, Sarena, and instantly fell in love.

On January 23 I cried tears of pride when her 3 older sisters met her for the first time. 

I probably cried on January 24, 25, 26 for no real reason other than I just had a baby and that’s how I roll. And I clearly remember crying that week, tears of frustration, when someone spilled some food on my new slipper.

I definitely cried tears of fear on June 21, 2018 when we packed up and went to Camp Nesher for my first ever summer camp experience, because I had no idea what to expect. (spoiler alert, I loved it!) 

And so on and so on, I cried so many tears. Some good, some bad, and some ugly (Pro tip: do not cry after applying self tanner, streaks are not cute.)  

Here’s the strange thing, There were also times when I didn’t cry. Let me tell you about those times.

I didn’t cry on September 14, 2018 when Sarena had her first seizure.

I didn’t cry a week later on September 21 when she had a seizure so bad she ended up intubated. (I’ll spare you the scary picture)

I didn’t even cry when my parents got on a plane from Israel to New Jersey and showed up less than 24 hours after I called them.

Being an emotional person, someone who can produce tears watching a poignant commercial, how did I, Tali the Tearful, barely shed a tear during these intense moments? 

Was it the zoloft? Probably. The ativan? Definitely helped. (Other substances? You’ll never know!)

Over the last year and a half I have been faced with many (too many) stressful and scary situations, but somehow, the tears do not come in those moments.  

Am I scared? Nope. I am terrified. So where are the tears? 

I like to think they’ve been planted along the way. I finally understand what it means to “sow with tears and reap with joy”. The tears her therapists cry when they see Sarena walking and improving gives me a sense of relief and excitement about the future. Every tear shed by all her aunts, uncles, cousins, and friends feel like a hug from afar. The tears that Dodi, Tzofia, and Atara cry when they see Sarena head to the hospital fill me with pride at how much they love their sister. The tears that come from Saba and Buni are more precious to me than gold. Saba Bert a”h, the ultimate gardener, is planting tears in shamayim, right next to Safta Shirley a”h (Sarena’s namesake). The concealed tears of Tzvi remind me I am not alone. Sabi and Papa, tears of strong men, fill me with strength I did not know I had. The tears Safti cries over her tehillem give me a sense of peace, knowing a day does not go by without a prayer said for her. And the tears that fall into Mamo’s challah dough each week give me a sense of comfort only a mother’s tears can. 

The reality Sarena is faced with is a scary one. It is one which should have me in a constant state of tears. And yet, somehow, I am not.  I cry, of course I cry, but all the tears we have planted until now are what fortify me during the toughest moments. It is now, when Sarena and her sisters need me most that I reap those tears.

And Sarena, our little warrior, well she has a garden full of tears which she so clearly reaps with joy each and every day. 

As we approach Shavuot, the holiday in which we receive the Torah on humble little Har Sinai, let us decorate our homes with beautiful flowers and blooms. Let us plant our tears, work hard for what we believe in, so we can reap the benefits now, and forever.