Kintsukuroi

11 years ago my life was very different. I guess most people change a lot over more than a decade, but today is a day of reflection for me and it’s when these glaring changes are blinking in my brain like a huge neon sign.  

11 years ago, I had 3 beautiful children, one of whom was a new born and two in nursery school. I had a wonderful husband who was so busy building his businesses, which meant frequent trips to trade shows and conferences.  I had 4 parents (biological and in-law) who helped and supported us as our young family grew and developed.  We still had 3 amazing grandparents that fed us with good food and great stories and showered us with unconditional love.   We had aunts and uncles and cousins who were all together for events and holidays. We were newish to the neighbourhood and had not yet built the many wonderful relationships we have now, but we had a great circle of friends who are family by choice. 

And then the unthinkable happened.   My dad died. October 17, 2008. 

The seemingly perfect life I was leading seemed to implode. My core was crumbling and I was reeling. My invincible father was gone and we were left to figure out how to navigate the world without him.  Our family, while still very close, now had to create a new reality.  It took many years (and we’re still not perfect, but who is) to be able to navigate this new landscape of our family dynamics.   My sister had retuned to Vancouver mid-November of that year, and my brother was still living at home.  He had promised my father that he would ‘take care’ of things and he took that to heart. But he was basically a child himself and didn’t have the skills, or the maturity to ‘take care’ of things. Looking back, we were very fragmented and if it wasn’t for our deep love and sense of family, we could have become distant and estranged over time. 

Within the next 5 years, we also lost my beloved Bubbie Jean, who was more than a grandparent to me. It is because of her that I know how to shop efficiently, make amazing Mac n cheese casserole and have a Passover setting for 30.   She was also the only person that kept plane Ruffles and hummous for me (yes, that is my favourite snack) in her fridge and would sit and talk to me while I lay on her couch eating. We also lost Kerry’s Zaidas Sam and Art, who always seemed larger than life to us and seemed like they would always be there.  We lost Uncle Gerry, who is always present - especially when I hear any song from Fiddler and definitely during Deyanu at the Seder.  And of course, our Uncle Dov. Being so close in age, not to mention how much time we spent together, he was more like a brother than an uncle. When he had his lung transplant, we knew it was iffy, but we were all so hopeful. He bounced back so fast and seemed ‘back to normal’.  Sadly, it was not ‘normal’ and we lost him just over a year later. 

I have used the analogy of a stool to explain how I relied on my parents, Bubbie and Uncle Dov growing up. They were the four legs that held me up. These four people loved me no matter what. I knew that no matter what was going on, I had them. And then, within 5 years, 3 of those ‘legs’ were gone and I was teetering. 

I am not one to hide my instant emotions, but I am also not one to expose my deepest pain and insecurities. I think my biggest fault is also one of my greatest attributes. I am very passionate, so I sometimes overreact. But I also love deeply and that sometimes comes across in the wrong way. I don’t like to show that I am hurting, because, really, what good is that. I am not a wallower or a ‘woe is me’ kind of person. I am a ‘get it done’ kind of person.  When I was diagnosed with cancer, I was more concerned with how everyone else was going to react. How was I going to tell Kerry so he was going to be ok?  How do I make sure my kids are protected?  How do I make sure that my mom is able to know that she’s not going to loose me?  I trusted my doctors and knew it would be ok.  Heck - I even started a business!  But deep down, and in the dark in the middle of the night on the many sleepless nights, I worried. In those private moments, I would talk to my dad, Bubbie and uncle and ask them to pull a few strings. 

So, as I sit here 11 years later, I reflect on where my life has been and how it is now. Besides missing those we have lost, I have to say my life is bordering on perfect (pu pu pu) in an imperfect way.  I think my marriage is the strongest and happiest it has ever been.  I have never been more in love with Kerry and we tell each other that every day. Our kids are now teenagers and a tween and are truly living their best life. My sister is thriving and has 3 beautiful children of her own, and my brother and I, who being so far in age and stages of life, had never really been close, have become extremely close and protective of each other. My mom and I don’t always see eye to eye, but we love each other so deeply, that we are always there for each other. And she is an incredible Bubbie. My in-laws are also amazing parents and grandparents and we love being with them, whether at Shabbat dinner or on trips together. Our brothers and sisters (again, there is no distinction between biological and in-law) are so intertwined and close that my sisters kids in Vancouver are super close to Kerry’s brothers’ kids here!  We are surrounded by incredible people who are more than friends.  We have best friends who time and time again show us that we have a support system that is unwavering.  And, we are blessed to be living in a neighbourhood that is so protective and inclusive. 

As I am planning a trip to Japan, I am reminded of the philosophy of Kintsukuroi.  It treats the breakage and repair of an object as part of the history rather than something to disguise.  When a vessel breaks, they use gold to fill the cracks. I feel I can use this philosophy to describe my life over the past 11 years.   Yes there are cracks. But instead of giving up, we have filled them with gold. We have amazing memories and stories. We have gone on adventures as individuals, as a couple and as a family. We have spent time building and cultivating relationships that fill us with joy.  We have made sure to instil a sense of family and tradition in our children.  

I am not the same person I was 11 years ago. But I am better. I may be cracked and imperfect, but I try to fill those cracks with gold.