Friday and we are apart again, without the smell of cooking or regular excavations • I would give everything for a hug • A special column for the big kids who miss

Every Friday I wait for this SMS from you, and always the same wording: "Do I have time to shower? When are you coming?" And every Friday I yearn to turn off the light and record a reply to you: "Exactly coming out, take the time, you have an hour."

But this SMS has not been coming for a long time.

Neither do I. You are terribly lacking.

I miss smelling your food on the stairs, running upstairs, ringing the door and waiting. I miss hearing you scream "Aaaaaaaaaaaah" and you open the door covered with towels. I miss the drama: "Don't ask! Soup me!" And a tour around the stove you had to clean. I miss the fact that you are surprised every time - "Do you realize that I only got into the shower 5 minutes ago ?!"

To all columns of human spring >>

Mom, I want a hug. I want to hide in your hair and sniff "shampoo." I want you to stroke my hand the way you do, and that you will occasionally take it out and kiss you.

I want you to hear noises from the kitchen and come and banish me from the pots, take me from ear to living room because they are not eating yet. I want you to lift my mouth out of the secret rice, and release the recipe to us already, God.

I want you to lean on your hand and stare at me eating, I want you to ask if a delicious one. I also want you to dig an hour later for the new patent you invented and made the fish amazing.

I want you to show me the wall you painted, the pillow you found, and what you hung in the bathroom. I want the shine in your eyes when you say "Look how the colors intersect!"

I want you to make that face when you have a surprise, and get an ice cream out of the freezer. I want you to ask me to explain to you what Instagram looks like if he read the post.

Mommy, I want you to cover me in the living room, and be with me in front of the TV even when you're dead to sleep. I want you to get up at the end of the bed, apologize for being done, drag me to my feet and give me a kiss.

I want you to be as happy as you are when we come, I want to die from the thought that you are alone on Saturdays and holidays, I want you to be healthy, I fear your fears.

I so miss you, the smells, the touch. Your home from which no one comes out and no one comes. I understand, really, that love is a distance - but willing to give everything to crush you right now.

So Mum, Samsie Lee as before, let's do it. I promise that when I can come again, you won't even have a minute to shower.

Dedicated to the older children who miss their mother very much. And for all the mothers. Shabbat Shalom.