Dear Brothers,

My Dear Brothers,

As you pass this milestone in your life,
becoming something else,
now you are men.
Responsible for your actions,
charged with a mission,
as MEN.

But yet, to me you will always be boys,
my younger (even my baby) brothers.
I want to hold your hand,
to guide you, as you cross the many busy streets in life.
I want to care for you, to help you,
to look after you,
to make up for all those missed opportunities.

My brothers.
Have I told you how proud of you I am?
How each of you makes such a difference in my life?
How much I cherish you and hope for you?
Have I taught you?
Not enough, no, not enough.

And now, as you move on to adulthood,
here I am standing off to the side,
looking on with pride.
Hoping, dreaming, reminiscing, and probably crying:

tears of joy,
this is your simcha;
tears of excitement,
we've been waiting for this for 13 years;
and tears of worry,
oh how I want what's best for you;
tears of pain,
enough is enough, why Hashem?
tears of hope,
I know that you can accomplish so much;
and you each will.

Can’t we turn back time?
Can’t we try again?
This time, I’m holding your hand,
protecting you,
caring for you,
shielding you from any harm.

My brothers, my baby brothers,
(yes I know, but to me you'll always be the babies of the family)
Men?
I feel that I've barely held on to my baby boys,
no, I have so much more I want to teach you ...
I wish I could just say, "follow me"
and now I have to let go?

Yes I will let go,
watch you go your own ways,
crossing the various streets life has to offer.
But every so often you'll hear me
shout, "watch out, danger!"
or whisper, "are you sure that's where you wanna go?"
or cry, "why, Hashem, haven't they had enough?"
or shriek with excitement, life has those intensely good times too;
or sing with joy, because I'm so proud.

Go ahead, make your own choices in life.
And if you ever need someone's hand to hold,
when life gets tougher than you thought it could ever be,
when choices are harder than you could ever imagine,
when right looks like wrong, and wrong looks right,
I'm here for you.

Yes, life is a busy street.
But, remember, Ashrainu, we are fortunate!
We have guidance.
Let G-d and Chassidus be your compass (or GPS).
Enjoy the journey.

And, though I haven't said it enough times,
I love you, I always have and I always will.

Mazel Tov!
May you go M'chayil el Chayil,
from strength to strength.
Becoming Chayalim,
soldiers in the Rebbe's army;
Chossidim,
Yorei Shomayim,
and Lamdanim.
May you have all the brachos in the world,
Letovah, for your GOOD!
And may we all merit the final crossing
to a better time and place,
toward the Geulah Shleimah
with Moshiach Tzidkeinu!

With more love than you probably ever thought existed
or could even imagine,
your proud and humbled sister.

(in honor of my twin (baby) brothers' bar mitzvah)