Week 52

Dear Zayde,


This week, as you know already, I learned how to climb stairs. On Tuesday when I visited you and Bubbe, I wasn't quite ready to climb; I touched the stairs, and I contemplated the stairs, and I yelled at the stairs so that they would tell me their secrets, but it wasn't until our visit on Thursday that I knew it was high time get a few feet off the ground. You all looked pleasantly surprised when I figured out how to get my foot onto the first step, which allowed me to pull with my hands and push with my feet until I was all the way up. Once I'd conquered the first step, it was a only a short time until I'd made it to the top of the landing. I'm happy on that landing, where I can see out the window and wave at the people coming and going, but you know first hand how much I want to go up the next set of stairs, the ones that lead to your office. I am certain that glorious things occur up there, and I am incredulous that no one will let me go up there. What good are stairs if I'm not allowed to exercise my newfound ability to climb to the top? I'd like to start an open dialogue and negotiate the terms by which I might be permitted to climb anywhere, anytime. I believe that under the right circumstances, we can find a happy compromise. If Iran and the West can find middle ground with a nuclear program agreement, surely you and I can find a way to end these climbing sanctions.

This week I learned that Mommy really hates the Miami Airport. A lot. She particularly hates it at 10:00 p.m. on a Friday night, when she is tired after a week without Daddy at home. I joined her in her displeasure, and in order to vocalize my empathy, I dutifully wailed while we parked semi-illegally near the baggage claim and waited for Daddy to emerge. When he finally threw his bags in the trunk and sat in the backseat with me, I was able to relax and smile and eventually fall asleep. Of course, when we got home, I had plenty of energy to play with Daddy until after midnight. I wanted to make up for the lost time. I'm sure he appreciated the effort.

This week I learned about birthday candles and birthday presents and the birthday song. I haven't had a birthday party yet, but I predict it will be at least as fun as climbing stairs. On Saturday, Grandma, Savtah, and my Tios brought me presents, which included new sets of Duplos. I'm starting to realize that these blocks are really for Daddy and his brothers, considering how much time they spent sitting on my play mat and building airplanes, trains, and ships. At least they let me act as the official wrecking crew for all their building projects. Later that day, when it was just us three at home, Mommy and Daddy stuck a pink candle in one of my favorite chocolate cookies and sang the same song to me three times, once in English, once in Hebrew, and once in Spanish. I was more impressed with the flickering flame than their harmonizing.

This week I learned how to measure a year. First, you start by counting the days. When you get to seven, you have a week. Then you start to count the weeks. That's what we've been doing with these letters. We've been counting the weeks. Now that we are at 52, we have made a year. The whole world has traveled around the sun in that time. The seasons have changed. We have celebrated every holiday. We are all one year older. This year has been my story; with these letters I have counted all the weeks of my life so far. Thank you for reading my story, Zayde.


One and counting,
Zelda