A Drawer in My Dresser and in My Heart Too

leaf

Wed, Jul 26 2023, 2:13 pm

A Drawer in My Dresser and in My Heart Too

At the bottom of my dresser is a drawer where I store tangibles of all that is precious to me. On the right-hand side are small boxes: miniscule square boxes, long rectangular boxes, larger square boxes. All host the jewelry that I have received over the years – the delicate gold necklace with the flower charm with diamond accents that I received from my best friend on the occasion of my bat-mitzvah, the pearl earrings from Yair on our 9th date, the white gold necklace and bracelet from his parents when we got engaged, the gold bracelet from Yair in our quasi-yichud room, my grandmother's engagement ring, more boxes of earrings and bracelets from Yair, jewelry that I purchased for myself to match my dresses, jewelry from my children, the slightly ostentatious necklace from my sweet daughter-in-law (I try to remember to wear it on occasions when we are together), the sapphire and diamond ring from the family on the occasion of my 60th birthday. On the left-hand side is a cardboard box filled with notes: the notes I took when "checking out" Yair when we started dating, notes that we passed back and forth between us during our first ta'anit dibur, telephone messages signed "love you", birthday cards and love notes from the children. Atop the "note-box" rests a diary, mostly empty, a goodbye present from a close friend when I made aliyah. And next to the diary rests a small wooden box, the sort of box they sell in craft supply stores. The top is painted a horrid bright pink color, the bottom unpainted. I have considered repainting but don't know what color would be dark enough to cover that pink. The box once belonged to my daughter and I took it when she outgrew it. In the box is a small shelf upon which rest small trinkets that Yair bought me when we were dating and under the shelf in the main compartment is a small cloth bag. And every year when the grandchildren come to celebrate Tisha B'Av I remove the bag and show them the shards of glass. And I tell them how Saba shattered this glass, as we stood under the chupah, and I recall those days before the Bais Ha-Mikdash was rebuilt, when our happiness could never be complete, always tainted by our loss, a small undefined pain hovering in the background, a constant sense of something missing, an elusive lack of fulfillment, and of inner peace. And I teach them that when things seem tough, when we feel overwhelmed with despair, a film of darkness shadowing us, redemption is always around the corner. כי לא יטוש ד' את עמו