Ode To Joy

These past weeks I've had more than my share of good times. Not that I'm complaining. First, an engagement party for a nephew and soon-to-be niece. Then a visit from another niece's family. Add to that a trip to see my brother and his family on the east coast. And finally, my son's Hanachas Tefillin.

It is the custom of Lubavitchers that two months prior to a boy's 13th birthday he puts on tefillin for the first time. Today was my son Mendel's turn. Menachem Mendel, that is.

Born on the Rebbe Reshab's birthday, Chof Cheshvan (November 20, 1997), my husband and I were in a quandary as to what to name him. First of all, he was son number 4 and I was, well, in my very late 30s at the time. We weren't anticipating any more children after him and we had yet to name a son after the Rebbe.

On the other hand, the Rebbe Reshab's name was Shalom Dov Ber, which is three names. My husband has three names, and doesn't care for it much. Plus, son number 3 is Shlomo, which is pretty close to Shalom, another strike against it.

Hence, our Menachem Mendel came into his name. However, I might add at this point that we did have another son after him, Moshe Dov Ber, and a daughter, Devorah Esther. Which gives credence to the saying: it ain't over 'til it's over.

In terms of joy, let it be. Ouch, I'm obviously having some musical moments!