"Her Disappearance Is Unimaginable" • On the anniversary of the passing of Nechama Rivlin, her daughter Rivi Rivlin writes about the beauty and simplicity that characterized her mother

• Proud to be your daughter, Mom. Nechama Rivlin and her daughter Rivi in ​​Moshav Herut, 1972

  Photo: 

  From a family album

For each one of us, Mother is a world to its fullest.

My mom would always say "Mom has only one," a cliché saying, but I've always been so right, and even more so today.

Mother is everything.

My mom has always been everything. Teaching, the rich, had a listening ear, helped, encouraged and supported. Any question, problem, or just when I told her something, she knew how to answer, explain, give advice. Also an answer like "Nothing to do" was an answer.

Her disappearance from our lives is unimaginable. All my life I have been pushing the news that this will happen one day, but life does not prepare us for the immense difficulty it entails. And every moment of the day, it strikes again and again.

No one to call. No one has to send a message and wait for a reply. No one to tell. And there is no one to experience.

Every morning I wake up, and the first thought that comes to mind is: Is my mother alive? Isn't it all a dream?

but no. My mother is not. This is not so jarring, and there is no power in the world that can eliminate the pain in my heart.

And what I want most is to tell her about it, and hear what she would answer. How she was encouraged, and reassured, and even just to hear the "nothing to do" sentence again.

It is so illogical that my mother, with her tremendous and significant presence, is simply not. It just doesn't make sense.

Over the past year we have received a lot of love from people who have known my mother, especially those who have met her for moments, or have not met at all, and only heard or read about her.

Everyone saw the beauty of its simplicity. And it is this simplicity that symbolizes my mother. The love of the small, simple details that filled her with great happiness.

I thought to myself that maybe what could be easier is to look for the "there". What do I have from my mom. And there are loads.

First of all, we have black humor, infused with real juicy cynicism. Sometimes people are shocked by our humor. But it does release the pain and anger of the reality we live in, until things turn into laughter, and in some place it might even be encouraging. Or at least returns a little in proportion.

Conversations in my parents' home were always conducted so that, out of the mundane everyday issues, one of us gave a cynical humorous sentence, and we burst out laughing. My experience is nothing like the delightful feeling of seeing my mother laugh.

My mother was a human model for us in every respect. I grew up in a world where man is a person, or in her words: "We all have two hands, two legs, eyes, ears, nose and mouth. We are all the same. We are all measured by who we are, not by what we are."

Of course, we want to try to be good people, who see and know the other, who know each other, and who are interested and always learn from the other. But most important to her was that we try to help and do for the weak in every way we can.

My mother was also my model as a woman. I looked at her, and I never thought I should apologize to anyone for being a woman. I never thought I should be scared because I'm a woman. I never thought I should consider my actions, my thoughts and my words, because there would be those who would consider things and deeds unworthy of a woman. I never thought that because I'm a woman, I'm less good, less worthy.

I have always seen a woman walking with her head raised and her back upright, with a radiant smile, a brilliant leader, a radiant personality and friendly to every man.

My mom knew she could do anything, if she just wanted to.

Once, when we were really small, we drove her in the car, and a bus driver, who probably didn't like the way she drove, shouted to her: "Woman, in the kitchen!"

And I, to Thomas, thought, how does he know my mom knows how to cook great?

I didn't even think for a moment that the driver meant anything negative, because my mother didn't give us the feeling that there was any harm in it. I think she said something in style: "So he said, so what."

***

My mother was eager to teach us and enrich our knowledge - about the land, nature, animals. Every summer as a child, she sent me, my sister and brother to the Society for the Protection of Nature, and even joined as a walking companion, with the dog Don.

It was important to her that we know how to identify plants by their names and types. Seasonal flowers, trees, herbs, shrubs, and parasites. In the winter, after the rains, we would go out into the forest to collect mushrooms. Of course, she always knew which dishes were suitable, and she would miss them at home. I will never mention them as a delicacy.

It was important to her that we understand the nature of ecology and the preservation of the earth, for posterity and other animals, who cannot protect themselves from human-caused destruction. Yes, the animals were a part of family life, especially our loyal dogs. In my childhood memories, I remember animals in need of care and breeding such as silkworms, rabbits, sharks, sea turtles, and even chameleons. Maybe it's time to tell my dad about "Silvery", who was a spider and would walk around the house freely. He built a web on a picture of a forest, and in fact waited for insects to fly and get trapped in his net. The picture is located above Dad's TV armchair. Mom always laughed at how one day he would raise his head and faint.

Wing owners were also part of the reality of our lives. Not just the scouting, which she used to water. We loved so much to look at the sky in the early fall and spring days and be amazed by the migratory bird bands. Identify the Nahalali, the Sparrow, the Bulbul, the Urban, the Dovec, and many others.

One memorable experience I have is a Saturday ride to the Carmenizan area at the foot of Mount Gilo, where we stood with large binoculars, aiming for a pair of large trees and nesting a pair of eagles. There is no more appealing sight than a pair of parents feeding the chicks and teaching them to fly.

***

It's impossible not to mention my mother's love for reading. She loved to read books, but more than anything to read stories. We as children, but especially grandchildren. If you want to remember my mother in her moments of laying down, that's when she would tell her grandchildren a story.

By the time they could read and read with her, she would call these moments "sheer bliss!" Almost every child's book in the world has been swept away, and some of us know by heart. "Aya Pluto," "Juice of Raspberry," "Apartment for Rent," "This Boy Is Me," "New King Clothes," "Eliezer and the Carrot," and in our adulthood, the entire book series by Erich Kastner and Deborah Omar, Janusz Korczak, and classics Others.

From it we learned that the week of the book is a holiday, and that there is no situation that we will not visit the compound, and everyone will choose a book, and then we will walk to the car with full bags. Each grandson and granddaughter have one or more books they have received from a grandmother as a gift, and they should be read before bed. And the selection is always great. From it, I learned the phrase that "if you're bored, read a book!" So do I tell my children.

My mother enriched us with lots of children's songs, which we also remember by heart. Especially "I Never Cry," "It's the Bad Boy I Got Inside," "Five Years on Michael," and all of "The Sixteen Sheep."

She would always tell in some detail what song she sang in the car with Matan or Shay, my children, after picking them up from kindergarten. Yes, my mom loved to sing children's songs, though it wasn't always easy to listen to her singer ...

Maintaining and maintaining the Hebrew language was also very important to my mother. She always said with a glowing face, "What a wonder it is that Jews who came to Eretz Israel from all over the world and spoke each other in their language - one morning they learned and spoke only Hebrew." So it was important to her that we make sure to pronounce every word in Hebrew correctly, and even in Wetsap correspondence with grandchildren, she made sure to correct spelling mistakes, including the phrase "write 10 times".

Most of our lives we have experienced, heard and sucked from her love of art, on every issue. We have been with her in the openings of festivals, especially the Israel Festival and the Film Festival, which brings with it memories of special and varied shows. I never forget a movie that was screened at the opening of the Sultan's Film Festival in mid-July's cold winter. She always made sure it was a fine movie, and it was always a special experience. Every summer she made sure to pick and buy tickets for shows at the Puppet Theater Festival for grandchildren, not before making sure the day and time were right so she could go with them.

No dance performance we missed. The seven-year-old band, the kibbutz dance band, and even the Russian ballet from St. Petersburg. Most of all, she loved Pina Bausch's dance troupe.

I learned from my mom to love beauty at face value. The sensation that washes the body as something vibrates the heart. Every good show was summed up with the words "Be amazing!"

Museums have been an integral part of our lives. As a child, she sent us to the circles in the museum, and many of our works decorate the house to this day. She is so happy to know that Matan, my son, is also attending this class, and was privileged to see and write about his exhibition, which she visited about a week before she went into surgery.

Visiting museums was also a must on every trip in the world. No matter where she landed, she knew every recommended museum and exhibit, and if we traveled without her, made sure to equip us with her international ticket.

My mother was the best cook in the world. And not only that - she was also an excellent baker. My brother Ran used to say that "she is already hungry in the driveway." There is no dish in the world that did not look so excellent and delicious.

I'm always asked, after I tell about my mom's food and cakes, if I know how to cook. I always answer not. I'll never get to her tastes. Once, when my son Shai had dinner with her, he told her, "My mother's rice is more delicious," and she immediately called to tell me proudly. I probably have potential.

I am sure that one of her grandchildren's memories of grandchildren and granddaughters will be baking cookies in various forms.

***

My Mom,

I think you had a lot more to do and contribute to all of us, in general. But it turns out that there is great power in the world, which you thought you did enough and that you should retire at peak, and with whom I do not argue.

So, as you always finished letters you wrote to any of us, I too will end the same sentence: "For me you will always be in first place!"

I am proud to be your daughter, my mother.

Rivi (Rebecca Ravid) Rivlin is Ruby's eldest daughter and Nehama Rivlin. She is the mother of Matan (20) and Shai (12), works as a team leader in the Knesset's purchasing department and lives in Mount Adar