It has now been more than five months since we shared the weekend of Erin’s bat mitzvah with nearly 350 family, friends and community members. The power of the moment is still with me, though I must admit, I was concerned details might fade with the more than 40 other b’nai mitzvah we will have attended by the time 2009 concludes.
Sept. 20, 2008 arrived very quickly for me, after having dreamed of the day for so many years. It was a day like no other, “the most powerful moment of my life,” I have since explained to friends, who have replied more than once with: “More than her birth?” “Yes,” I respond im-mediately, “for in birth, you are in an altered state, but at the bat mitzvah, I was present for every moment.”
Erin’s birth was preceded by 36 hours of heightened drama, concluding with an emergency C-section, but even before that, Erin and I had come to know one another through a very magical pregnancy. As Erin gently encouraged my body’s expansion to 150 percent of my normal weight, she remained a great companion with whom I would speak incessantly. And after she entered the world, Erin took to teaching me from the very first moments of our face-to-face acquaintance.
Since then, Erin has assured me to have confidence in her. She was independent and blew caution to the wind — if there was a tree to be climbed, she would be up it; a hill to traverse, she would be down it. It was gratifying to see her embark upon life’s journey with her own sense of style and timing.
Such was her formal path toward her bat mitzvah — one with great confidence and comfort.
Though we are members of a Reform synagogue, where the custom is for girls to have their bat mitzvah service at age 13, Erin had learned that it is tradition in other parts of our community for girls to become a bat mitzvah at 12.
Having felt herself ready for adulthood at age 10, Erin began to make her case to have her bat mitzvah at age 12.
While I shared in her excitement for the day to come, I was in no way prepared for it to arrive any sooner than necessary — and was ever so grateful to Temple Sinai’s Rabbi Steven Chester for putting the brakes on this debate and slowing down, if only for a bit, Erin’s crossing over from childhood into adulthood.
As a professional events planner, I was thankful for the synagogue’s high level of advanced planning (we actually had our date confirmed more than two years before the big day) and for Cantor Ilene Keyes’ organizational skills (she had a timeline of the tasks Erin needed to accomplish from start to finish).
The tasks came upon us in the middle of busy lives, and I was amazed to see Erin take charge and keep to the timeline, studying prayers and Haftorah with her tutor, Rachel Valfer, and then her parsha cantilation with the cantor.
The cantor’s timeline of tasks did not, however, include such things as securing a venue for the celebration, caterers, music, invitations — tasks I tackle without hesitation on a daily basis for my clients. This event, however, was different. It was “ours.”
Erin’s bat mitzvah was the first of the 2008-09 school year — the first among her classmates at Tehiyah Day School and the first out of her group of friends from her Temple Sinai preschool class. This was uncharted territory.
Sure, I had attended b’nai mitzvah (a few) through my adult years, but I felt that I had no road map on how to precisely make the day meet Erin’s expectations and ours, however undefined they were. Who to include and who not to include? Our lives are very, very community oriented, and I had so many people I wanted to include. In the end, I could not exclude anyone — and I am so glad.
I was humbled by the positive replies of people wanting, willing and able to make the trip to be with us during the weekend. That so many community members would give up their morning and afternoon to fill the sanctuary, and create the embrace we felt, will always warm my heart.
I watched Erin walk up to the bimah when called, in the turquoise high heels (hand-me-downs from her cousins) about which she was so proud, and as confident as when she took her first steps.
She was ready for this moment, whether I was or not.
I watched with pride and tear-filled eyes as Erin made eye contact with people all around the sanctuary, sending greetings with her smile — her words clear and metered. She did not rush through the service, but relished the moment and guided us all through a spiritual morning of prayer and song — interpreting Moses’ final words to the Israelites, and encouraging us all to do what is right.
Erin had arrived, poised and confident. Our daughter had taken on with grace the mantel of adulthood as Jon and I had presented her with her tallit.
She would carry on the traditions handed down from generation to generation — by those present physically and those spiritually — and I could only sit back and watch, learning from her.
Laurie Earp is a Bay Area native who lives in Oakland, which she is proud to make her home base for community participation and work. She and her husband, Jon, have two children.