My Father's Bar Mitzvah at 81

One Friday night dinner, my 81-year-old father made an announcement: “I’ve decided to have a bar mitzvah.” After our initial surprise, my siblings and our families were all on board. We understood it was an important step in his life.

Due to family tragedies when he was a boy, my dad missed out on this important rite of passage in his younger years. We knew my dad had lost both his mom and sister at a young age, but he didn’t talk about it a lot. Decades later, after my mom died, my dad fought through his dark cloud of grief and found support and belonging in his Jewish community. It was a connection that sustained him, and most importantly helped him feel close to my mom. A bar mitzvah represented a deepening of this spiritual journey.

My parents, of blessed memory

Over the following months as my dad studied with his Rabbi, the rest of the family kicked into gear. All the grandkids had celebrated bar and bat mitzvahs, so we knew what to do. Evites were sent to friends and family and celebratory meals were arranged, including Shabbat dinner for the night before and a kiddush lunch after the service, complete with Trader’s Joe’s orchids for each table.

Our kids, now teens and young adults, couldn’t wait for Papa’s Bar Mitzvah. My daughter even created a Mazel Tov! signing board with photos from my dad’s life. A dear family member gifted my father a yad, a silver pointer used to read the Torah, engraved with the date of my dad’s bar mitzvah and his Hebrew name, Akiva.

On the day of Papa’s Bar Mitzvah, my brother smiled his approval and complimented my dad’s suit. My sister squeezed my hand like a nervous mom. Our father stood tall in the bima. Wrapped in his tallit, shiny silver yad in hand, he read like a champ. And those beaming faces of the grandchildren, so proud of their Papa’s accomplishment. I remember thinking “from generation to generation,” in both directions.

My father’s yad, engraved with his Hebrew name, Akiva

When the Rabbi spoke about my dad, he compared him to Rabbi Akiva, the famous Rabbi who shares my father’s Hebrew name. Rabbi Akiva was a poor shepherd who only began to learn Torah as an adult. A humble man, he began his studies in a kindergarten class. Eventually he became a great scholar and teacher, a leader of the Jewish people. It seemed more than a coincidence that my dad, like his namesake, would also begin his Torah studies later in life.

Witnessing my dad prepare for this personal milestone was an inspiration and a reminder. As Jews, it is our obligation to always grow in spirit and in strength no matter our age.

In the wake of deep loss, my father leaned into an ancient Jewish ritual for comfort, solace, and joy. But somewhere along the line it wasn’t just my dad who healed. It was all of us. His emotional bravery was a balm for all of our hearts and souls. We celebrated a momentous life event without my mom. It was beautiful and bittersweet.

Life being bittersweet is the core of Jewish existence; joy and sorrow are braided together, making every moment in life more meaningful. Centuries ago, Rabbi Bunim of Peshischa told of the slips of paper he kept in his pockets. On one he wrote, “The world was created for me,” and on the other, “I am but a speck of dust.” I think about this a lot when I count my blessings and my losses. We are always holding two things. One in each pocket.

Our lives took an unexpected turn when my strong, resilient dad became ill later that year and passed away a mere six months after becoming a bar mitzvah. The loss was immeasurable but our gratitude is eternal. Papa’s Bar Mitzvah will always be a deeply held precious memory for our family, a small pocket of time when it felt like the world was created for us.

My father’s yad, now a precious family heirloom, sits on a shelf in my home office. Tucked between favorite family photos, it carries the story of my father’s bar mitzvah. Cool to the touch, it’s tarnished just a bit. The patina gives shape to the story it tells. I look forward to the day when one of our own grandchildren will use it, adding a new story for the yad to carry.