Showing posts with label Holiday. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Holiday. Show all posts

Monday, April 25, 2016

Moments of Memories ~ #Monday Blogs


You’re standing at the stove and preparing a holiday dinner, suddenly all you can see in front of you is an image of your mom in front of her kitchen stove preparing the dinner for the same holiday many years earlier. Memories of a childhood long ago spring to the forefront unexpectedly, welcomed by your heart and met with a tear on your cheek.

It’s Passover in our home and I prepare the Seder for a family gathering each year. Our table is filled with our children and their spouses, close friends and assorted siblings (varying each year depending on individual schedules). Good and plentiful food, so many traditional recipes… we take turns retelling the story of the Exodus when the Hebrews fled Egypt. Four questions asked and answered, the bitter herbs remind us of tears, the sweet charoses to remind us of the mortar used to build the pyramids, and Shmura Matzoh to remind us of the haste that our ancestors left Pharoah’s land.

The plates on my Passover table were my mother-in-law’s, the Seder plate was my mom’s, the Haggada story belong to all the generations. L’dor v’dor, from generation to generation, we are commanded to retell the story as if we were living it ourselves. There’s laughter as we “personalize” the tale.

Inevitably we each bring our memories to the table, some different and some shared. The older generation laughs about the Seders we shared with our parents. The younger generation remembers a few years before when they dressed up to re-enact the Passover story. And every delicious bite of our festive meal is spiced with the sweetness of happy times.

One day our children will share their memories with their families, a few tears will stain their cheeks, laughter will surround their table, and the sweet memories will once again be welcomed as new ones are made for future generations.

Monday, December 7, 2015

The Sentimental Menorah ~ #MondayBlogs


We go about our day, everything is normal, and suddenly something happens to remind us of times gone by and a tear falls…

Last night we lit the first Chanukah candle (there is the Shammos with eight candles, one for each night). To say our prayers and fulfill the mitzvoh (commandment), we light an open flame (in our home, candles) menorah, but we use an electric menorah in the window for display and safety reasons (curtains, shades, etc.).

Let me fill you in on back story here:
My family has the tradition of passing down the candle menorah to the oldest daughter by her first Chanukah in her married home. Somehow my mom received two heirloom menorahs so both my sister and I each received one. By the time I was married, and my parents gave me their second menorah, I wanted to replace a menorah for them; my mom was getting wary of the open flame and when safety is involved adjustments can be made, so I bought them an electric menorah which they used in December 1976.

My dad passed away suddenly in the spring of 1977 and later that year my mom (with the help of her daughters and their husbands) packed up the apartment. There were plans for her to move in with her children, but first she wanted to relax in Florida with her mom. She had a stroke and although we brought her back up north to be close to us, she never was able to come home; Mommy passed away in January 1979.

I’ve used the electric menorah we had given to my folks in my window since 1979. When my children were very young, before college, work and marriage, they used to take turns. One child would pick out the Chanukah candles to be lit in the brass menorah my mom passed along to me and the other child would screw in the correct number of light bulbs for the display. Mark and I have taken over both tasks in the more recent years. When my daughter married in 2007 we replaced the candle menorah for our use as the tradition carried forward.

Yesterday afternoon I took the electric menorah, a white plastic now turned yellow from age, from its box in the closet and hoped that each of the orange bulbs would still light; I plugged it in while standing in the kitchen to check if I had to replace any. All nine of the bulbs lit… then one flamed briefly and before I could pull the plug a circuit breaker switched off and half my kitchen was without power. I called out to my husband that “a fuse blew” (I’m old school and still call it that).

He reset the switch and came upstairs to see what I had done and there I stood just looking at the damaged menorah and, yes, crying quietly. He inspected it and confirmed my fear, the menorah bought 39-years earlier that my parents lit as they shared their last Chanukah together, was done. This simple gift I had given to my parents meant more to me than I ever realized. I mumbled how I had looked for orange light bulbs when I was in the supermarket just in case they were needed, but all that the store had was an LED menorah with little blue lights.

My husband, thinking swiftly, simply said, “Get your jacket on”. He drove us to the store and bought one of those LED menorahs with little blue lights and that is what was displayed in our window for the first night of the festival. Right after we came home and set the new plastic menorah in the window, I set the Shammos and one candle in the “real” menorah and Mark said the blessings as he lit them.

On the first night there are three blessings, the first one is Shehecheyanu where we thank G-d for giving us life and enabling us to reach this season. Seasons come and seasons go; life is forever moving forward. After 39 years the plastic electric menorah that I always thought of as my parents’ menorah has been retired and I admit without shame that I shed some tears as memories flitted through my mind. Now Mark and I will have new memories to make and share with a new display piece.

I hope that your holiday celebrations are fun and festive and whichever holidays or events you observe are warm and fulfilling.


Chag Sameach (Happy Holidays)

My parents' electric Menorah

Friday, November 27, 2015

Thursday, April 17, 2014

from 2008 for #ThrowbackThursday ~ The Magic of Passover

In time for Pesach, here's an older article about Passover preparations & festivities. This year, 2014, has been wonderful, although our first seder was just three of us (hubby, son & me, future dil was working & daughter & sil were with his side of the family). The 2nd seder was lovely, a table of 13, unfortunately not everyone invited was able to make it. It was a fun time with lots of laughter and good food. ...still my favorite holiday.

As a child I loved waking up the morning before the first Passover Seder to see our kitchen so sparkling with aluminum foil lining the stove and refrigerator shelves. The special dishes were set on the table and the good silverware was polished and sparkly. All of the “chometz” (any mixture that contains flour and water that has been allowed to ferment) was GONE, often hidden away in a cardboard box in a bedroom closet or such. The food pantry was chock full of delicious chocolate covered jell rings, jars of gefilte fish (mom didn’t make her own), matzo farfel for turkey stuffing, sweet grape wine, apples, walnuts and other delicious treats.
When the extended family came to the Seder on either (or both) of the first nights, my folks had folding tables set up that stretched across the living room effectively dissecting the bathroom and kitchen side of the room. Depending on how much horseradish you took on your gefilte fish, you were happy, or not, that you sat on one side of the table or the other – the dash for water rivaled the great Exodus by itself! My dad did not read Hebrew, neither did many of the other relatives, and trust me, English was not my dad’s first language. So the reading of the Haggadah (the story of the Exodus) was always a lot of fun as daddy substituted words.
As far as I was concerned, Passover was pure magic. Passover has always been my very favorite holiday.
Now I am the mom and the wife. It is my kitchen that I line with aluminum foil. It’s my pantry that gets scoured and restocked. It is my table that hosts family Seders for up to 20 people (the largest was 24!). And oy, it is my back that feels the strain year after year.
This year as I folded myself pretzel-like to line my pantry shelves and realized that I am not nearly as flexible as I once was, I began to wonder if perhaps I fell in love with the holiday and its “magic” because I was not the one originally doing all of the work.
But as we sat around the Seder table on the first two nights (the first was just the 6 of us, the 2nd night we had 16) and we took turns reading from the Haggadah – in English with the prayers being done in Hebrew by those who knew it – there was so much laughter and so many jokes. There are jokes that are repeated year after year and still are laughed at, like the parsley dipped in salt water that we call the salad course of the meal, red faces after the horseradish is passed on matzo (home ground from fresh root!), and many, MANY impromptu comments thrown in during the evening.
The service and meal takes approximately 4 to 5 hours. That is 4 hours or more of captivated audience even though I have more table room than mom did and my home is not dissected by the elongated table. (But it was still a riot when my son, seated at the far end, handed his father, seated at the head of the table, a walkie-talkie so they could “communicate”!) And as I sat there, hopping up between courses to serve, I noticed something significant – the magic is the family. It is the laughter, it’s the joy, it’s the good food, it’s the love and it’s time together.

There is such a magic – I love the Passover holiday.

Thursday, November 25, 2010

Happy Thanksgiving to all

May you enjoy the bounty of good food,
comfortable warmth,
love of family and friends,
and good health
.
~~~~~


Thanksgiving dinner with her family was wonderful, but Davie was happy to get back to her own place for the rest of the weekend. Thanksgiving dinners were always a monumental event in her family and especially since her cousin and her new husband had just gotten back from their honeymoon, the family went all out this year. She seemed to remember that last year they had some special reason to go all out then too, just like the year before.

When she was little, she remembered helping her mother prepare wonderfully delicious Thanksgiving dishes. She loved the baking most of all, fresh apple pies, delicious cornbread and pumpkin muffins – her mouth watered just thinking about it. Her mom and all her aunts, and sometimes even her uncles, helped to make a cooperative feast that she was sure rivaled any that the Pilgrims might have even dreamed of. Even now, long after her mom was no longer around to make any contributions, the dinner was still a huge ceremony. Everyone agreed though that the sweet potato pie was never as good as Laura used to make.

She was put on the bus for the trip back home with a carton of plastic containers filled with leftovers. Luckily the bus was near empty, so the cardboard box had its own seat for the ride. By the time she had gotten back home, she was so tired she barely got everything put in the fridge before she climbed exhausted into bed.

Saturday morning she slept late…

Davie was startled when her doorbell rang. She wasn’t expecting company.

"Hi." Adam greeted her when she opened the door. "I drove by last night and saw your lights on, but it was late." He had worried that the family upstairs would think he was a prowler at that hour, especially if Davie hadn't welcomed his presence. "May I come in?"

COURAGE OF THE HEART shows us that sometimes love is the only cure for the very deepest of emotional wounds. The story of the two lovers takes a series of unexpected and fast paced turns where lives, sanity and love are put in jeopardy. Their commitment to one another results in a spirit that binds them together and helps them to overcome physical and emotional dangers.
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