A number of years ago, I wrote an article entitled “All the Wrong Reasons to Make Aliyah.” In it, I described how difficult it is for Shaul (and, by extension, for us) to handle three consecutive days of Yom Tov. For him, it is extremely difficult to endure 72 hours of not using electronics. All Shaul knows is that on Shabbos and Yom Tov, we don’t use them.
So when a regular Shabbos would come, the constant refrain of “tomorrow night” would be hard to listen to but was manageable. When a two-day Yom Tov would begin, those words were not completely accurate as “tomorrow night” would only be the start of the second day; that was definitely more challenging. A three-day Yom Tov — “forget about it” — for us, we felt like a crazed horse running toward a burning barn. Nevertheless, with the chesed of Hashem, we would make it through and live to tell the tale.
This year, however, everything changed. Shaul moved into his adult residence, known as “The Bayit,” right after Purim. As Pesach approached, the question we were asked multiple times was, “Will Shaul be joining you for Yom Tov?”
As much as we would want our family together for the Sedarim (Gad was coming with Yocheved and the kids), we finally had gotten what we had davened for: Shaul would be in a place called else for a three-day Yom Tov and would be well taken care of there!
So, with some misgivings, we informed the malachim at the residence that Shaul would be staying there for the first days plus Chol Hamoed and would join us for the last two days. This seemed to us to be the most logical decision.
However, it wasn’t necessarily so easy for us — were we now admitting to the world that it was easier for us to not have Shaul in our home for Yom Tov! For lack of a better word, it felt “icky.” Every parent wants to think of themselves as loving all of their children but, in some way, it felt like we were abandoning our third son during the very family-oriented event known to all as “the Seder.”
Both before and during the three days, Rochel and I consistently wondered how Shaul was doing. Was he managing? Were his caretakers managing? How was his Yom Tov? Did we make the right decision?
When those days finally came to an end, we heard a couple of things which made us feel a whole lot better. First, Gad told us that he and Yocheved both noticed how much calmer and “present” Rochel and myself were throughout the first days. It was something that perhaps we subconsciously felt but did not realize until someone pointed it out to us.
Upon reflection, I truly was so much calmer than I would have been otherwise. I was able to walk my guests out the door without needing to think about whether Shaul should come with me or that I would need to rush back to help Rochel out with him. In fact, I was able to go to shul after the walk and not only learn some Torah before Mincha, but was able to schmooze with a friend afterwards.
The second, and even more important, thing we found out happened on the first day of Chol Hamoed when we went to visit Shaul in his second home. First, we found a happy boy who was enjoying an Uncle Moishy video. Second, we read the log which was kept by the staff as to how the last few days went. It spoke about Shaul participating in the Seder, eating matzah, drinking grape juice, singing Dayenu. It mentioned Shaul doing puzzles, playing games and taking walks during the days of Yom Tov. Then, we spoke to one of the counselors who had been there with him. “He did great. We had a wonderful time!”
It was so gratifying to hear that our fears were unfounded and that Shaul had done so nicely during the first days of Yom Tov. Thank you to The Bayit and thank you to Ohel’s staff for giving Shaul, and us, a truly Chag Sameach!
Rabbi Yehuda Minchenberg is a fifth grade rebbe during the school year and teaches Torah at Camp Regesh during the summer. At home, he (together with his wife, Laurie), is the parent of six children, four of whom have varying special needs.
