If Shylock wasn't proof enough that Shakespeare was not of the Jewish faith, one of his most famous quotes definitely suggests he was somewhat foreign to our beliefs. Contrary to Juliet Capulet's claim, AJ4, we hold that names are not an artificial and meaningless convention but rather a statement of your character, your specialness and your path in life. Whether named after a deceased relative (Ashkenazi Jews) or a living one (Sephardi Jews), the hope is that as you grow, you will learn to emulate the positive attributes of the person you're named for. And so it was said, and so it was done for you...
...but not before we had seven days of getting to know you, AJ4...
And then the big day arrived. Tuesday, 21st April. First out the door were AJ1 and AJ2...
...whose job, with Pater, was to ensure that the hall looked beautiful. And lime green. And, as a memory to Grandpa Toronto, mustachioed...
With every mustache in place, your Bris - the lifelong covenant between you and your Maker - was ready to begin. Every aspect of the ceremony had significance, starting with the honoured people who literally carried you in...
...through to the honoured people who figuratively carried you through the circumcision and naming. Yup, right from the outset, we wanted you to know that your family and your community are there for you!
This was a joyous day and with joy comes food, or maybe the other way round. Either way, there was lots of it. And mustaches. Because we celebrate life with our friends and family (Toronto now, London and Tel Aviv in the near future), but we never forget the people who got us there.
And so to your name, AJ4. Your Hebrew name is for Grandpa London's late twin brother, who exhibited a lifelong dedication to his brother (your grandfather) through Russian gulags, Middle Eastern wars and British football rivalry (your English first name is a Latin translation of that name). Your English middle name is for Grandma Toronto's recently departed cousin, who successfully dedicated his life to being the best doctor he could be, despite the evil attempts by the Nazis and Communists to end his life and his dreams.
Names are important, AJ4. If you ever forget what Mater and Pater want you to aspire to, please reflect on your names and the people who carried them before you, and never forget the importance of dedication to your family and to helping the people around you, even in the face of adversity.
And in case you forget AJ4, don't worry, us Avocado Hasses will be there to remind you...
...without or without a mustache...
Dear AJ4
Hi! I'm your Mater. You may remember me from such films as "Please stop kicking my uterus, I really need to sleep", and "If I have any more Zantac or Gaviscon I'm going to deliver chalk". And if that doesn't ring a bell, how about the bawling lady you met a few minutes after your birth? The one laying flat on her back, arms splayed out like the Messiah? The emotionally-exhausted, drug-filled woman who went though a miraculous yet commotion-filled event? Ah finally you recognize me.
Oh what a joy it was first meeting you. As I held you in my arms, I felt like the Queen of England. Figuratively and literally. And before you comment Pater, it is literally...
Once the drama of the OR receded and we got wheeled into our hospital room, you and I got to bond as Pater wrote emails, took photos and videos, and generally made a nuisance of himself. And then at four in the morning he left to go home, wake up AJ1 and AJ2 and tell them they had a new baby brother (and finally eat some of the feast Mater had made for our guests the previous day). Our hospital room was quiet. Your naked little pink body lay on me. Mater and son. What serenity! What bliss! What a wonderful thing strong painkillers are!
Mater knows you're our last Avocado Junior - something I can't quite come to terms with just yet. Gut wrenching. But as a result, maybe more than with your siblings, Mater is savoring and soaking in every moment, every hiccup, every gas induced smile, every sudden startle, every yawn, every finger curled around mine, and even every poop. Fine, that was overkill and blatantly untrue - Grandma Toronto can cherish those latter moments.
Why stop at four Avocado Juniors? Because not only are you perfect, AJ4, but our balance is now perfect. Yup we have the perfect recipe for a wonderful guacamole! 6 people fit around our kitchen table. 6 people fill the row of a normal sized plane (so AJ1 doesn't have to sit next to a weirdo like on our last flight). And, um...okay, so maybe Mater can't think of anything else that is good only with six people, and maybe Mater could probably have a dozen more Avocado Juniors but it's time for the avocados to ripen and move on to different and hopefully more exciting stages in life (like going to summer sleep-over-camp so that Mater and Pater can travel for 6 weeks each year. Oh sorry, too soon?) But that doesn't detract from the feeling of love and completeness that you have brought to our lives, AJ4.
And if you need any further proof, take a look at your siblings' reaction to first meeting you (but also, seriously, watch your back kiddo with AJ3 - he may love you a little too much)!
Within seconds the kisses were flowing and you became part of the tight-knit posse that Mater and Pater are lucky enough to call The Avocado Juniors.
Welcome to the guac, AJ4!
Love Mater
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