Sometimes you feel regular old and sometimes you feel really, really old. You feel regular old when your kids are all driving. You feel regular old when you walk into a room and you cannot remember what brought you there. You feel regular old when your body creaks when you walk. You feel regular old when you are speaking to someone on the phone that you went to college with and you suddenly realize that you will be celebrating your 25th college reunion in June. You hear yourself saying the words, and yet, it doesn’t feel like it has been 25 years since you stayed up all night in each other’s rooms trying to figure out what you were going to major in or who you were going to go on a blind date with or how many more gallons of Haagen Dazs ice cream you were going to eat. It certainly cannot be 25 years?!?! Ok, so that is when you feel regular old.

When do you feel really, really old? I will tell you. When you go to your (follow along) husband’s first cousin’s daughter’s Chumash play. That is when you feel really, really old. Why? First of all, the Chumash play is taking place in the building where you went to high school. It is no longer a high school; it is now an elementary school. There is no trace that you ever existed in this place. All of those memories are now covered in brightly colored construction paper spelling out the days of the week. And the building that now houses your high school is located where a horse farm used to be, a horse farm that has no visible trace of any of those poor horses. Seems like we have both been put out to pasture.

The second reason? Your youngest child is now 16 years old and his Chumash play was eight years ago. That is correct. You haven’t been to one of these in eight years. This also means that when you are looking around the room to see if you know anyone, you realize that all these kids around you are much younger than you are. I am not talking about the kids who are receiving their Chumashim, I am talking about the parents of the kids. I did not recognize anyone. Oh wait, that isn’t true. This brings up to the third reason you know you are really, really old. You know you are really, really old when the only people you recognize at a Chumash play are the grandparents of the kids in the play. Yes, the grandparents. When did that happen? I guess it was in the 25 years since I graduated college…

In any event, going to a Chumash play as a spectator is much different than going as an invested participant. By that I mean a parent, one who has invested in yeshiva tuition. I have fond memories of getting to the events early to find that there were mothers crazier than I was (yes, it’s possible and you know who you are) already there with pre-printed signs to tape on the chairs. And they brought their own tape. That probably amazed me more than the signs—that they knew where the tape was in their house to bring it. But ultimately, we would find the seats, separating the parents and the in-laws with the grandchildren. Cameras a-blazing. Good Times. No live streaming or pre-recorded videos. It was some songs, a chosen relative to present the Chumash and a collation fully equipped with enough sugar to keep all of the younger siblings on their toes for at least two hours post production.

At my own kids’ Chumash plays I still felt young. I still had healthy ovaries and I had yet to see any gray hair. And this most recent play, I was put in my place. Not old enough to be a grandmother, but not young enough to be a part of any play group that might have been going on amongst these moms. And that is ok because the point of the Chumash play is for these kids to receive their first Chumash and to start learning the words of the Torah. It is a very exciting time in these kids’ lives, but as for me, the Torah is older than I will ever be, so at least I know I will never be the oldest in the room.

Congratulations to all of these little cuties. Onward and upward!

By Banji Latkin Ganchrow

 Banji Ganchrow wore a red dress to her Chumash play and she sang the Aleph-bet song. Oh wait, that might have been her Siddur play. At least she remembers something…