Honoring my Mother

The last few weeks the dress has been patiently waiting in the closet for another adventure. I have been traveling a great deal to help my mother transition from the 3 bedroom house in California she lived in for 53 years to a 2 bedroom cottage in Colorado at Shalom Park. I spent several weekends going through closets and drawers, tossing and packing and shredding to get ready for the move. Oh yes...I do still have a full time job in Colorado, so I built up a number of frequent flyer miles. 

All of this was done with love in the Jewish tradition of honoring one's parents...which actually has a twist most people do not know about. The Hebrew word "kavod" found in the talmud does not really mean honor, but more closely aligns with the English work "dignity" 

There is a profound difference between these two notions. I can honor my parent by making sure she is fed and clothed, but I am commanded to give her dignity in the way that I help her. This means feeding and clothing a parent, but making them feel beholding or unimportant does not count. In the same way that a baby who is fed but not held or loved can die, all of us need that sense of dignity and belonging as we age. 

There is also a clause about how far we must go to take care of our parents. We are not allowed to injury ourselves, physically, emotionally or financially, for our parents. 

"At the same time, while honoring your parents is a tremendous mitzvah, you also need to be responsible for your own welfare. One is not required to endanger his emotional or physical health for a parent. Therefore, if a child cannot cope with the parent's behavior, he is permitted to keep his distance."

This means that while we are supposed to help feed and clothe our parents, we are not supposed to drain our own saving to do this, or put ourselves in any sort of danger. This is a message that while others matter, we are still obligated to take care of ourselves. And that the focus is not on providing things and stuff, but on helping someone live with dignity. 

After cleaning out 53 years of papers and tchotchkes and clothes and furniture and utensils and tools and pictures and art decor and books and boxes and, and, and, and, and, I get it. None of us live well because of our stuff. Once our basic needs are met and we have what we need to function, more stuff does not make us happier, healthier or wealthier. It is the living with dignity, having a sense of meaning and purpose in the world that matters. Regardless of our age, regardless of our circumstance, human dignity trumps merchandise. 

We are still in the process of getting the details in place, stuff moved, and paperwork settled, all of which I will handle. The key, however is for me to handle it in a way that provides my mom mother with "kavod" in the truest manner.