A Birthday Blessing to Asaf

Asaf celebrating his birthday at Merchavim

Asaf, 25 years ago today you made me a mother. I remember it clearly, the moment you entered the world and changed mine forever. And yet, 25 years later I feel like I’ve given birth all over again.

Not to your body, but to your voice.

To your truth.

To YOU.

After 24 years of guessing, often badly, I’m finally getting to know you. And what a gift that is.

Over the past 12 months everything has changed. Asaf, thank you for your determination to come home. You knew, long before I did, how important it was for you to be surrounded by your family. Thank you for not giving up on being seen.

Thank you for teaching me to listen, not only with my ears, but with my eyes, my heart, and my full presence.

You’ve shown me what it really means to presume competence. Not as a slogan, not as a hopeful idea, but as a living, breathing truth. You’ve taught me to see beyond silence. To recognize intelligence even when it doesn't look or sound the way the world expects it to. You’ve always been aware. Always present. And I’m sorry I didn’t know how to recognize that sooner.

Your laugh, how it bubbles out of you, fills my heart with joy and light. Your quiet humming, little melodies that appear like a private soundtrack, they remind me that you are fully here and that your soul holds music, even when your voice doesn’t.

You are thoughtful. Loyal. Full of care for those around you.

Your emotional intelligence runs deeper than most people I know.

You have a huge heart.

And I love that we are walking this journey together: me, advocating for a world that presumes competence; and you, bravely typing out truths on behalf of the non-verbal community.

I love having you at home.

I love your hugs, the way you gently or not so gently pull me close, and rest your head against mine.

I love the way you smell my hair, and everyone else’s too! (I’d love to know what information you're gathering when you do that...)

I love the way you call out for me when you want my attention.

I love that we watch documentaries together. If people had told me a year ago that I'd be sitting with you, fascinated by the history of the State of Israel and David Ben Gurion, I would have laughed in their faces. And now? I wouldn’t trade those quiet evenings for anything.

In the five months you’ve been back home, you’ve accomplished things I never dreamed were possible:

• You ran in a cancer awareness event.

• You rode 25 kilometers on a tandem bike with someone you'd never met before.

• You lit a Beacon on Yom HaAtzmaut with Maya.

• You met friends for pizza.

• You overcame moments of apraxia that allowed you to ride a horse again, something that fills you with deep joy.

• You participated in a short film to raise awareness for individuals with special needs.

Each of these is a milestone. Each one is a quiet revolution.

Asaf, I’m with you. I believe in you. I am endlessly proud of you. And I can’t wait to see where this journey takes us next.

Happy 25th birthday. May this year bring you growth, freedom, connection, peace and love .

I Love you more that you could possibly imagine.

Ima