"Abba?" he said. "Abba? I can't call him `Abba.' He's not my
Abba."
That was my first challenge. Avreimi was only twelve and a
half years old. He never had an Abba. Avreimi was born after
the Accident. Four months after the Accident, to be exact.
But now, thirteen years later, the situation is being
confronted.
There was never a need for any discussion before. He always
understood what had happened to his father and older brother.
He heard so many stories from his sisters and brothers about
the car accident that took them away. And he was never
bitter. He was never angry or resentful that he was different
from the other boys in cheder who had a father.
He was secure in his situation. Hashem gave me the strength
and wisdom to make sure of that. But now the reality of a new
situation hit him with a force I didn't know existed. A
father that was not a `real' father. What can he do? How can
he function in a new home? How can he call this stranger
`Abba?'
So I said simply, "Yes, Avreimi, you're right. He's not your
Abba. But you have to call him something..." I tried to
lighten the situation.
"You could call him Charley," I said humorously, "but that's
not his name, you know. You could try, `Hey, you,' but that's
not polite. You might even say, `Excuse me, Mister...' but
how would that sound? `Good night, Mr.?' "
Avreimi was not amused. He looked at me with big questioning
eyes. He was confused and looked trapped. I could see in his
eyes the fear of the future, the uncertainty of having a new
father. No, of having any father, because he had never had
one.
Hashem, help me! I prayed. What answer can a wise
mother give to her youngest child who is approaching a new
life, in a new town, in a new home, with a new family?
Hashem came to my aid. He gave the words that would solve
this one of many problems.
I hugged Avreimi and answered as calmly as possible. "Yes,
Avreimi. This isn't your Abba. But he can be an Abba to you.
He has been an Abba for many, many years. His own children
call him Abba and we are now going to live in his house with
his children. So when you need to call him, say `Abba' out
loud. But you can continue the sentence quietly in your head
and say `of Yanky.' Yanky is his son and he is Yanky's Abba.
So what you're saying is true. `Abba shel Yanky.' But
you only say the Abba part of the sentence out loud."
Avreimi looked at me as he was digesting this thought. I
could see that he was playing out a scene in his mind. I
waited and waited. Finally, Avreimi said, "O.K. Ima. I'll try
it. It's not a lie. I'll try."
And try he did. I never heard the shel Yanky part of
the sentence but I know it was there at first from the way he
hesitated before saying what he had to say. After a week,
however, both Avreimi and I didn't think about what to call
this new stranger because he wasn't a stranger any more and
`Abba' came out as naturally as could be.
Families are sometimes broken. A parent dies or leaves.
And other families are reborn. Today we called these new
families `blended families.'
Some blended families find a way of adapting to the new
situation and to each other simply and naturally. But others
do not. Even the simplest questions can't be answered easily.
Children may ask, "Where will I sleep tonight? Who will make
my sandwich for tomorrow? How can I call her Ima? Why are we
different? How could this happen to my family?"
Very often, parents are unable to answer these questions to
the satisfaction of their children. Certainly, every family
needs Hashem's guidance and assistance, but how much more so
the blended family. Unfortunately, there are so many blended
families in our community today. How can we help them? How
can we answer some of these question so that they can lead as
normal a life as possible?
That has become my goal. I want to find ways to answer the
pleas for help. Even if the parents themselves don't know
what the questions are. I want to look in our sources to see
what Chazal have to say about blended families.
I want to start support groups in English and in Hebrew for
stepmothers, stepfathers and stepchildren of all ages because
this is so necessary for our precious children, and for those
in our situation. In such a support group, members can voice
their pain, confusion, questions, answers, tips, advice and
concerns so that they will eventually learn to trust each
other and to trust their own instincts.
With Hashem's help, each member will be able to focus on what
needs to be done or not done in their own surroundings so
that each individual family member will benefit from and
learn to appreciate their new and old parent.
Anyone who would like to join such a support group or
contribute to it in any way is urged to contact Devora
(Saslow) Weinberger at 02-651-9216. We ask for Hashem's
blessings for this endeavor.
[Ed. I have included this, not meant for publication, but
important for the cause.]
Dear Mrs. Weinbach,
You have just read what I would like to do. I have never done
anything like this. I have never started or facilitated a
support group but a number of people are encouraging me to do
so. I even have two experienced psychotherapists, both
chareidi, one man and one woman -- who have expressed a
desire to help me.
Where do I go from here? I have been in touch with Malka
Adler and Leah Kotkes about a possible book on the topic of
`Blended Families' or `Step-Parenting.'
What do you think?
What do you think?
