I remember it like it was yesterday.
I was in Yeshiva in Detroit, which was located at the time at the Dovid Ben-Nochum Synagogue. I was standing at the pay phone, chatting with my mom, as I would every morning after Shacharis, morning prayers, at around 9:45 AM. A friend of mine walked by and muttered with a grin, "Mama’s boy." I smiled. It felt good that someone recognized how much I adored my mother. Even if it wasn’t meant positively, I heard it that way. I was a Mama’s boy.
I left home for high school in August of 1997 and spent that year in Lod, Israel. Then, in 1998, I attended Yeshiva in Montreal, Canada. In 1999, I was in Detroit, Michigan, and in 2000 at the Rabbinical College of America in Morristown, New Jersey. Whether it was with my "Telecart" at the community payphone in Lod or the calling cards in Montreal, I never missed a day, six days a week, and sometimes even Saturday night after Shabbos, to speak to my mother. I’d speak to my dad a couple of times a week too, but due to his work schedule, the daily calls were to my mom.
We’d catch up on everything: life, health, studies, grandparents’ wellbeing, weather, religion, politics, siblings, finances, and everything in between. These morning calls were part and parcel of my existence and also allowed me to hear how my mother was doing.
One day I was chatting with her, and she seemed unhappy that I was spending the entire holiday season, from Rosh Hashana until after Simchas Torah, at the Chabad Center in Oklahoma City. I felt bad that I wasn’t there for her, and that she seemed to be missing me. So, the next morning, Chol Hamoed Sukkos, I hopped on a flight to New York. We went out to a great Kosher eatery in the city called "America’s Most Favorite Desserts" where we ate lunch in the Sukkah. Then I hugged her goodbye and headed back to OKC.
After my mom passed away, I wasn’t going to let the daily call tradition die, so I started calling my dad every day. In the beginning, he didn’t know how to handle it: "Why are you calling? Is everything ok?" but he learned, and now we FaceTime every day, chatting, catching up, laughing, sharing, lamenting, venting, loving, and celebrating. He speaks to each of his children almost every day.
"Making that daily call is a simple way for us to ensure that our parents know we cherish them and honor them."
We should never be too busy to spend five minutes a day doing something so worthy. In the words of Mitch Albom, one of my favorite authors: "When you look into your mother’s eyes, you know that is the purest love you can find on this earth."
It’s not a one-size-fits-all, and this isn’t about feeling guilty; it’s about taking steps to honor our parents daily, not just on Father’s and Mother’s Day. I do it my way, and you could do it your way, but please do it. It’s a win-win for all.
