Who am I?

How often, in the course of the everyday things we do as adults, do we stop and ask ourselves who we are and what we stand for? Over the past week, with Passover and Easter having beren celebrated, we all had the opportunity to stop and look around and take a moment to reflect. This morning in the park, Lucy and I encountered mountains of trash from people who celebrated Sunday in the park, and the leftovers of their food and games and revelry was evident, but in the quiet of the morning, I wondered how many of them took the time to discuss among themselves, or explain to their children who they really are and what they really believe in.
Bob talked about the difficulties of learning the prayers that his school required of him, when there was no follow through at home. He really had no idea why he was riding his bike long distances to learn something that seemed so unimportant to his parents. As a girl, I wondered why I did not get to learn the things that seemed so important to my parents. With so much information available to our children, and grandchildren on the internet, I wonder if we adults still manage to remain a mystery to them.  We require things of them, often hard and time consuming things, and we think it is self evident why they should acquire this knowledge, or behave this way, while it is really not so until a much later time.
This time of year, Spring, when newness is evident all around us, is for me a time of rememberance.  Both my parents died and three of my grandparents, in this season.  But I remember fondly what they taught me, even if I was puzzled at the time I was required to learn it. So as I prepared for the holiday, I thought about the people who taught me to be who I am, and how much love and caring was involved in that, and whether I am worthy of all they did for me.  I thought of all of the trials of immigration that my grandparents underwent, and the difficulties of being first generation American born and poor that my parents experienced, and then I thought of the ease of my life, the luck and the love that created who I have become, and I was greatly awed by all that contributed to who I am. While I am far from perfect, I am perfectly grateful to be me.