Snow days. Don’t let the happy, smiling people on Facebook fool you. The snow in Portland has been rough. Parents who work outside the home can only work at home for so long, and kids tend to get restless after two snowball fights and three viewings of Frozen (no, the symbolism is not lost on me).
Here’s the important point, though. As frustrated as we may be by this change in routine, we know school closures are for our own good. Those robo-calls and morning news screen crawls may feel like tiny, stabbing icicles chipping away at our psyches, but of course they are for the right reasons. The safety of students and teachers is clearly the priority, and canceled school days and postponed programs happen because those in charge are looking after our health and wellbeing.
Sometimes we need to hear bad news because it’s for our own good. Because, painful as it is, it’s with our best interests in mind. For example, I recall vividly the time my mom pointed out my ever-encroaching crow’s feet; rest assured, I’ve given my opinion right back plenty of times. If you know our relationship, you know this back and forth comes from a place of love (and occasionally humor). Whether it’s another snow day or a loved one giving an honest critique, we often feel we can be the most honest with and about the ones we love because there is an understanding of trust, care, and concern for wanting the other to be at their very best.
This week we read parshat Vayechi, the final section of text in the first book of the Torah. In this section of text, Jacob requests to his son Joseph not to bury him in Egypt. Then, Joseph brings his sons to receive blessings from their grandfather Jacob. Jacob dies, and as the family mourns, Joseph also requests that his bones be taken with his father’s. The brothers reconcile the final pieces of their differences so they can be at peace in their father’s absence.
The blessing of the children is a tradition continued even today – we do it with our children. Each week on Shabbat we bless our children and share with them an amazing accomplishment we’re proud of or just something that made us smile. Similarly, Jacob’s blessings start out lovely and complimentary as he blesses each of his sons.
However, as he blesses Rueben, Jacob shares “You brought disgrace…” Hold the phone. Disgrace? What kind of a blessing is this? On the surface it sounds like a pretty harsh dig at Reuben’s character, but if we look closer, perhaps this is part of a greater blessing. If intended constructively, having your father, the one who knows you best, point out a glaring fault or misstep is a sign of care, respect, and certainly trust. There is the trust that Reuben will take his words seriously to heart, and there is the respect that prevents Jacob from withholding advice that could make his son a better person if he shared it.
Some people tell us what we want (or think we want) to hear, but is that doing us any good? A few snow days may be inconvenient, but I’ll take the honest, respectful inconvenience over the alternative any day. Who’s up for a snowball fight?