She says Bye. Bye Bye.

Photo by Roman Gonzalez

She says bye. Bye Bye.

We named her Noa because we liked the sound, we liked the feel. We named her Tziporrah (bird in Hebrew) after Danny’s late grandmother Feige (bird in Yiddish). It was not conscious at the time, but prophetic perhaps for Noa shares the same root as movement in Hebrew and birds fly freely. And now she says bye. Bye bye.

A perfect fit and no co-incidence with my soul’s obvious need to exercise attachment and separation, a recurring theme throughout my three decades of life.  Bye. Bye Bye.

I heard it said from somebody wise that the role of a parent is to teach children to be captain of their own ship. It’s all about empowering them to become independent. And already now, at almost one, she says bye. Bye bye.

She is fiercely attached and paradoxically confident and independent.  She is content and safe in our bond but I sense her curiosity. She wriggles nonstop toward me and then away, a constant ebb and flow. And as she sits, and as she moves, and as she steps, she says bye. Bye bye.

Bye is her first word (apart from mamma and abba) that she understands and loves. How obvious. And she babbles bye bye away constantly and emphatically, reminding me of how raising a child seems endless in the moment but ends all too soon.  And that the time will come that she will go off into the world, and say bye. So I hold her close, kiss her sweet cheeks and much to her delight, reply: bye. Bye bye.

About Loren

Writer.
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