Thirteen years almost to the day my son was born. He was the result of an unplanned pregnancy. My wife and I were driving halfway across the country for me to start graduate school. At a stopover in western New York, my wife said she felt strange. She seemed unable to satisfy an insatiable hunger. And her period was late. She got up from the restaurant where we were having dinner, and went to the drugstore across the street to pick up a pregnancy test. "You knocked me up," she said when the test came up positive. When we got to our destination, the first thing we did was set up an appointment at the local Planned Parenthood office. Definitely positive. The woman that told us the result couldn't help but smile when she saw the look of joy and terror on our faces. Now, I look back and smile, too, but not so much about our predicament. I'm remembering the night we got pregnant. It was a memorably good lay.
Anyway, my son will become a bar mitzvah by undertaking an ancient Jewish coming-of-age ritual. He will chant Torah, make a speech, and lead the prayer service. I have composed some thoughts about what I will say to him this Saturday in front of our congregation. Here is what I'll say:
For someone who has always avoided being the center of attention, you have certainly performed well today. Congratulations. You have already thanked the people who have helped you prepare for this day. I do want to give special thanks to your Mom for all of her devotion to your preparation for this day and her efforts in making this day special. She thinks we don't notice, but you know as well as I do that nothing would ever get done in our family without her. She keeps us all in tune in more ways than one.
Your bar mitzvah is an important step in becoming the person that you will eventually be. And this has gotten me thinking about the people whom I have learned to admire most. I don't want to identify anyone by name, but they all have a particular trait in common. They are all independent thinkers and do-ers. They are the kind of people who don't just accept common wisdom, act according to custom, or embrace what is popular. They are not contrary for the sake of being contrary but, they do think for themselves. They decide for themselves what they like, what suits them. They decide what is right without relying on what everyone else says or does.
Looking back on your life, I can think of many instances when you have demonstrated this instinct. It first started when you became fixated on the the most obscure topics that have interested you most as you have grown up: animals, horses, antelopes, geography, and cultures and customs of people around the world, Sri Lanka. These days it is the alto saxophone, concert band music, and protist and fungi. You have never seemed to worry about whether any of these things were particularly cool or popular. You have become interested in them because you like them.
Even from an early age, I could see that you had an unusually keen sense of playground ethics, of who is a good guy and and who is a bad guy in story books and in movies, of who needs help, and what is fair and unfair. You have always done and treated others according to what you feel is right in your heart. Thank God you are a Democrat.
You are shy, but you have shown us once again today that you can rise to the question when you need to. And, even as late as Wednesday's run-through with the cantor, you were even asking to lead more of the service. So, maybe you are not as shy as we thought. And you are, once again, doing what is right for you.
What I am trying to say on this day of your bar mitzvah is this: you are one of the people whom I admire most. And I am very happy that you are my son.