A Chapter 2 Baby

Since the war started, I have attended more funerals and shivas than in all the years leading up to the war combined.
I’ve started feeling like the funerals and shivas I attend for elderly people who passed away are almost like simchas. Tonight, for example, I attended a shiva for the father of my daughter’s teacher who died in his sleep at the age of 77 after having had Alzheimer’s for 3 years. That feels like a simcha after attending the shiva Thursday night for my daughter’s 26-year-old friend, Chanan Drori HY”D, who was critically injured in Gaza 2 months ago and died this week from a fungal infection.
But this Friday I heard about a REAL, honest-to-goodness simcha.
On Friday the coordinator of meals for families of newborn babies asked me if I could prepare a meal for a family of 5. I assumed I was preparing for a young couple with 3 small children, probably all under the age of 6.
But when I arrived at the family’s home, and said mazal tov to the young woman who answered the door, she giggled and said, “I’m not the mother! My mother is in that room, go say hello!”
When I went into the other room, I was greeted with a huge smile by a woman in her 40s nursing an infant girl. After we spoke for a little while (and realized that she had been the music teacher in my son’s gan) I addressed the elephant in the room: “It looks like this was a long-awaited baby…”
“Yes,” she smiled, “I have three children from my first marriage, they are 10, 20 and 21 years old. B”H I got remarried a year ago after being a single mother for many years. This is my first baby in 10 years, and my husband’s first baby in 20 years! We named her Naama.”
Goosebumps.
Thank you Hashem for REAL simchas.
Shavua tov!