Personal Narrative: A Bar Mitzvah

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It will be my son’s birthday next week. Not sure what gift I should get him. I mean what can I, a 52 year old man give my son of 19 years who has almost everything at reach. I remember when I was a bit younger; I experienced the Holocaust on my own skin. I celebrated my Bar Mitzvah in a “ghetto”, as they would call it. A Bar Mitzvah is a Jewish initiation ceremony for boys that have reached the age of 13, and are from then on considered men who are responsible for their own actions. I shared this experience with my father David, older brother Joshua and little sister, Anna. All we ate on my thirteenth birthday was potato peels and a slice of dry bread to share amongst the four of us. The next two birthdays in the “ghetto”, were even worse. …show more content…
I remember the day he was born very vividly. My wife woke me up at 3:38 am to tell me the baby is coming; it is on its way. As I drive my wife and future son to the hospital, I felt very anxious to meet my first born son. Upon arriving to the hospital, I started feeling the pressure building up. The woman that was giving birth in the neighboring room just found out her daughter passed away due to complication and the umbilical cord was tangled around her baby’s neck. It is a mortifying experience as I think to myself what happens if it will happen to my son too. It took her about two hours until the doctor finally announced my son was born alive and healthy. Holding him for the very first time, feeling his breath and his lungs expanding to take air in while his tiny heart beats was an extraordinary feeling. We had an agreement with my wife that if a son is born I will name it. I chose the perfect …show more content…
I guess this feeling is normal and most fathers experience it at one point or another, but it is still hard for me to comprehend. My father and I always had our differences, but back then during the holocaust we grew closer, it united us. Sometimes I wish I could go back in time and spend more time with Nick. We used to play basketball every Sunday in our backyard when he was still in high school. Those were the days; days of happiness and joy. I regret having just one son. There is a special bond between a father and son nobody else can
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