Every Yom Kippur since childhood, my father held me close and placed his hands on my forehead to recite the Priestly benediction, along with the words “Ye’simcha Elohim ke-Ephraim ve’chi-Menashe – May God make you like Ephraim and Menashe”.
As a child, I didn’t understand why my father wished that I be like two other boys. And he always cried as he recited the words. Was he disappointed in me? I thought. Why did I bring him to tears? His tears deepened as I matured, especially it seemed after I came out as gay. Perhaps it was a loss of the dreams he had for who I’d become or that I was unlikely to have children of my own? More years passed, and my father, Levi – a Holocaust survivor and a traditional Rabbi – came to love my husband, Zach Shapiro (a Reform Rabbi no less) as a son of his own. And in my father’s twilight, his fondest wish was that we have children.
Neither my father nor mother, unfortunately, lived to see the wondrous twins, Maya and Eli, that Zach and I have been blessed to bring into the world. On the day of their namings two years ago, Zach and I placed our hands on their tiny heads and bestowed the very same blessings my father bestowed on me. My eyes welled and I cried: Tears of wonderment, gratitude, worry and, of course, joy. For the first time, I understood my father’s tears, along with the many emotions parents feel for the precious souls entrusted into our care.
As Yom Kippur approaches, I already know that in blessing our children, I won’t be able to hold back the tears – of memory, of love, of gratitude and of hope.
Ron Galperin is the City Controller of Los Angeles and proud father of wondrous twins, Maya and Eli. www.lacontroller.org
