Dear Bubby,
I am so sad that I was only a baby when you were nifteres, and I never got to know you. But my mommy always tells me that you loved me so much. During the one year of my life that you were alive, I gave you so much joy. Each time you saw me, your face lit up. You played with me and made me giggle. You held me and made me feel loved.
The night before you were nifteres, you had a small procedure, and afterward they brought you to the critical care unit. The nurses weren’t used to a patient having as many visitors as you did, and they were aggravated about it. They definitely would not have been happy to see a baby there. But you were really sick, and Mommy knew you might never see me again. She knew how much joy I brought to you. Shhh…don’t tell anyone – but she snuck me in. You were too weak to hold me or coo to me. But you gave me a smile. I know I am lucky that I was the last grandchild you smiled at.
Sometimes I wish you could still be here with me. My mother tells me how much you would love hearing cute stories about me and cuddling me while reading me books. You would love to buy me new dolls and books, and you would love to talk to me on the phone.
She tells me that we would come to you for yamim tovim together with all the cousins, and it would be such a blast! I feel so sad that I lost out on that experience. When I play with all my cousins, Mommy tells me that you would have such nachas watching all your eineklach playing together. All I know is that I love playing with them, and I love when we spend time together. It is sad that we can’t all play together in your house.
You missed most of my milestones. You missed when I started walking and talking. You never had a chance to see how inquisitive I am, how I love learning or to see my bouncing curls as I skip and giggle with carefree joy. I look so big in my uniform, but you never got to see me in it. Do you even know that your granddaughter is an aspiring ballerina? Well, I am. I do ballet all around my house. I twirl and pirouette. I walk on tippy-toes and jump up. But if this worries you, don’t let it— because when I grow up I want to be a tzaddekes.
Guess what?! On Wednesday we are having our aleph-bais siyum. I get to wear my Shabbos clothes! My mommy will brush my hair until there are no knots and my curls frame my cheeks. Then she will look at my sparkling green eyes and the touch of freckles that light up my face. She will tell me how proud you would be. She will tell me that I have your sparkling green eyes. I don’t know what your eyes look like, but I do believe that I would make you proud.
Tonight I sounded out words and wrote them down. I figured out that Chanukah is spelled with a chof, a nun and a kof. Mommy said that we have to save this paper with my first words. I told her that I can show it to you when Mashiach comes. She also wants to save my first sight-word book to show you. I told Mommy that I might not be “in this age” anymore by then. But she said we can still save it for you.
I wish my mommy could tell you about all the good middos I have. Yesterday, I held the door open for her even though my hands were so full of things. That is because it was kibbud av v’eim week in school. Now it isn’t anymore, but maybe sometimes I’ll still do that mitzvah.
Mommy was happy that I made a kiddush Hashem at the bank. That’s because I got a lollipop and was having fun. But don’t worry – as long as I am in the mood, I will try to make “kiddush Hashems.”
Sometimes if I am hungry or tired, I get very kvetchy. Probably on those days my mommy would call you up and say, “I have a kvetchy little girl in my house.” But don’t be sad that sometimes I get “kwetchy” and maybe even talk with chutzpah. I think that as I get older and learn more about good middos, I will give you lots of nachas.
I am still just a little girl. But I know that in a way you and Zeidy and Tante Esti and Uncle Chesky will always be part of my life. Because I always hear about you. And I really do want to give all of you nachas up in shamayim.
Still, like my mommy I do wish that today you could see how cute I am, that today I could talk to you on the phone and that today I could show you my first page of words.
My doll is crying now. I have to go take care of her. So, bye.
Love,
A Little Girl with Sparkling Green Eyes who Never Got a Chance to Know Her Bubby
