Over The Threshold

One of the games I love playing is backgammon. I have a running tournament with one of my friends, and there is always an open game on the table on my back porch. It’s always waiting for one of the kids to join me..I think I can safely say that the back porch is everyone’s favorite place in the house, except for Asaf. Asaf’s armchair in the salon is sacred territory. Anyone who forgets that quickly finds themselves lifted out of it by Asaf. It didn’t matter how many times we invite him to join us outside, it was as if he was unable to step over the threshold of the patio door.

As I approached my 50th birthday, my kids told me they were sorry that there would be a slight delay with my gift. They promised it would be worth the wait.

Those who know me well know that I have zero tolerance for waiting. It is part of my ADHD, deeply engrained inside me. It drives me crazy that one of my kids can receive a package and let it sit unopened for hours, sometimes days. I need to know what is inside, and I need to know NOW.

A couple of weeks ago, all my kids happened to be home at the same time which is a real rarity. It was then that I was finally given my birthday gift. Maya’s promise that "Mum, it is worth waiting for" turned out to be an understatement.

I understood immediately that it was a backgammon board, but nothing could have prepared me for what was inside. A drawing of the five of them with the words "Just the way you are!" Wow. I was blown away.

But there was more. Out came another gift, a book titled All the Reasons There Are to Love You Mum. There were thirty different questions. I sat and read, cried, reread, and cried again.

Raising my kids has not been easy, to say the least. I am a single mum to five incredible human beings, but the challenges along the way have been huge. I seperated from their father when Asaf who was just 13, and i had another four kids under the aged of ten and younger. Ayala was just sixteen months old and still breastfeeding. There were times that were hard. And times that, well, how can I say it... times that were incredibly hard. There were periods when I cried daily. I could share stories that today we can laugh at, but at the time I was deep down a rabbit hole, just trying to survive.

Reading their words, how they see me, how they appreciate my parenting, their love... my heart was overflowing with joy.

Sitting outside on the back porch with them and their gifts, every tear was worthwhile.

Suddenly the door flew open, and Asaf stepped over the threshold, and sat down with us. We all cheered and encouraged him, because this was his very first time outside on the back porch. He was so happy.

Since that evening he often joins us out there. One night I even found him sitting on the porch alone in the dark. It might sound like a small thing, but his choice to be with us, to be part of us, is huge for me.

I often wonder how Asaf must have felt all those years watching us, seeing us together and not being included. And now he is. Now he chooses to join, to sit with us, to be part of the moment.

When you presume competence, when you believe someone wants to connect even if it is not obvious, you create space for beautiful surprises like this. A single step over a threshold. A roll of the dice. A smile that lights up everything.

Sometimes the smallest moments are the ones that show you the biggest truths. And sometimes, the heart speaks louder than language.