This is a story about a dressing gown.
A real life pink dressing gown, but the person who wore is gone, and the void left behind by the absence , the robe alone cannot fill.
This pink dressing gown made a long journey to me from far away Faran, a Moshav in the south of Israel, away in the Arava dessert , where it belonged to Maya and Moka's mother, Ofra, and where it remained after her death.
Shani, who is Moka's friend, decided for the birth of Moka's daughter, she wanted to give her a keepsake doll to remember her mother.
She turned to Maya who graciously agreed to be a full partner in the process, to go to her parents house and bring clothes for the purpose of integrating them into the doll.
But she did not know which of the clothes, which were left as they were, and had not yet been arranged or sorted, which of them could be taken and brought to me.
At night, Maya had a dream.
In her dream she saw mother Ofra wearing the colorful pink dressing gown.
The same dressing gown that Moka asked about if it still existed.
She woke up and knew what she would send over, it was the perfect idea.
Maya took the robe and another scarf, put them in a bag and sent them on the long way from the desert to the mountain to Jerusalem.
Maya was also happy to talk to me on the phone and tell me generously and openly about her dream that she had, and my heart opened to her and to their story, and I dared to ask that if she had a photo of her mother in a dressing gown to send me, and she agreed.
She asked if we could use part of the robe and mend it back so that it could be used by her sister as it was used by their mother.
In the picture she sent me, their mother is nursing a baby - their little brother - Omri - in the colorful pink dressing gown.
We took a bit of the dressing gown and incorporated it into the doll.
I closed his hem back and carefully repaired the holes I found here and there.
A woman becoming a mother needs her own mother to lean on and support her at a time when she is beginning to understand the mother she is becoming. And when such a mother is not present, missing her is so tough.
The dressing gown or the doll can't console the sorrow,but a friend who is ready for this kind of gesture and a sister like Maya, who is able to share the memories and the longing, can be such a meaningful hug, like a breath of fresh air.
I wish I would know how to be there when someone needs me like that, to lend a hand and to open my heart.
Thank you so much Maya for opening your heart,
Thank you dear Shani for the initiative and execution despite all the difficulties and distance.
You taught me a lesson of love.