The Seder on campus wasn’t home, but it was still lovely. It ended early, I got home late, and discovered a box sitting on my front stoop.

A care package.

Somehow, in the midst of teaching, traveling, cleaning, cooking and generally going nuts, my mom set aside the time and energy to put together a box of favorite movies from childhood, painted tiles from Jerusalem, my favorite Passover tea, the most chocolatey maccaroons she could find, a beautiful note, dozens of little treasures to let me know she loves me and misses me and is so proud of me she could burst.

Just seeing the box, I started crying so hard I could barely open it, and every item I unwrapped set me off again, sobbing until I couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe. I bawled for half an hour before I finally calmed down.

My mom is amazing. I love her so much, and I don’t tell her nearly often enough.


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