Breaking Up is Hard to Do: My Daughter’s Pacifier Calls it Quits

At 5:00 am Sunday morning, three-year-old Tamar Ben-Zvi, a Jerusalem native and lifelong Beatles fan, woke up with a letter taped to her pink Hello Kitty purse.

The following was leaked to the media by an anonymous source, a lifelong Beatles fan, with close ties to the Jerusalem band of Ben-Zvis:
Dear Tamar,

How are you, baby girl? I know you might be sad right now, and maybe mad at me. I’m surely sorry if my leaving town so suddenly has upset you.

Imagining you in tears makes me feel weak on the outside and cold on the inside.

Still, I think the time has come for me to embark on new adventures with new people.

Don’t blame yourself. It’s not you, it’s me. When you were first born, we had some wild times.

Remember when you were 11 days old, and your mom and dad took you out for the first time in a taxi? When the driver with the sparkling gold tooth started yelling at your parents because little babies must not leave home for at least 40 days, you clung to me for dear life! We got through that ride, and a few other detours as well.

How about when we were all living in Nachlaot and your belly hurt so badly one night that you screamed like a banshee for three hours straight? As the June light turned to moonlight, your pop held you tight and walked with you around the courtyard. Still you cried. Your dad was so worried. He was scared that you’d cry forever! He was also afraid that the funny old neighbor with the big ears, small eyes and onion smell would call the cops.

Yet, your old man came through for you like a champ. Soon enough, the pain passed and you fell into a deep, dark sleep.

Tamar, I didn’t leave you because you did something wrong. I left because of everything you’ve done right.

What a perfect pleasure it was to watch you grow up! When you first tried to crawl, in our new apartment in Old Katamon, I was there with you. When you first stood tall, down in South Africa, that was me by your side. When the streets of Jerusalem became your stomping ground, I became your partner in crime.

Thing is, now you’re saying more and more words every day, in two languages! There’s no place for an old, beaten up pacifier in your mouth.

There’s so much to talk about: new school, new friends, your baby sister, ice cream, presents, your Saba, your Nona, and everyone else who loves you.

And let’s not forget all the songs there are to sing.

How can you possibly talk, sing, laugh, shout and cheer with me in the way?

You can’t. So, it’s time to hit the road. After all, there a lot of tiny babies who could use a friend like me, don’t you think?

Tamar, no matter where I go and who I meet, you will always be my first love.

Now, get out there and give life a great big hug and kiss!

P.S. Tell Smurfette she owes me fifty shekels.


View my other Times of Israel blogs here.

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