some memories of holidays

Holidays, so many memories, gather in my mind, so many photos embedded in my brain, and so many reasons to celebrate in a communal manner. When we were little the preparations for the holidays meant the odors of Mr. Clean, Windex, and Comet all those man made smells would then melt into the aromas of my mothers baked cakes or pies, her magical brisket, the fragrances of fresh salad and the satisfying comforting sweetness of Matzo Ball soup.

Soon, the adult table would be set and then the two or three card tables and the borrowed metal chairs would be placed in our living room with extra pickles and olives in the center of each table for the entire clan of kids. For 6 hours our house would be a buzz with dusting rags, mops and specific orders and directions from my Mother as to which chore each kid had to tackle. We would pout and mope but even with our own cry of despair we all knew eventually the dinner would be served and nothing else in the world would be like heaven. We had to earn our right to indulge in a feast so wonderful that all the labor pains became mute and forgotten and once the first morsel of food hit our pallet all that mattered was Mom, can I please have more!

Soon the scents of Lily of the valley, rose, and grandma perfumes would waft in the rooms of our house mingling with whiffs of tobacco from the men who smoked cigars and a few Pall Mall or Kent cigarettes. If it was cool outside, our windows would fog up trapping the kitchen aromas with the delicacies of ladies perfumes and makeup, and if the weather was warm the window fan in the dining room and the fan placed on top of the television would shift the smells of food and beauty product throughout the entire house.

If we had 16 people it was a small dinner, having twenty people was the norm. Most of our guests were Aunts, cousins, Uncles but then we invited the few neighbors who had no family and the few strays who were alone and by themselves. Suddenly our house was alive with stories, laughter, drama, kidding and personalities big and small.

Holidays meant love, they meant family and they meant a purpose to gather and share and understand who we were and why we got the places we found ourselves. Holidays became meaningful as an expression of love, care and devotion. Holidays were a focal point demonstrating how fragile we could become but also how strong we were when all of us were together.

On the 28th of September many Jews around the world will celebrate a new year, Rosh Ha Shana. There will be reflection, revelation and a resounding declaration of next year in Jerusalem. It will be the beginning of a series of holidays important to Jews and a time to ask for pardon, a time to apologize for any injustices and a time to look at your family and friend and say thank you God.

I had moved from Pittsburgh over 25 years ago and spending holidays with those I love is not as easy as it once seemed. Too many people I loved have passed on and keeping the entire family together is more of an effort. But when it is holiday time I can use my photo albums, letters from the past and recollection of fable and fiction from my sisters and my kids to remember just how important this time was for me.

My collection of loved ones has evolved into friends and now my partner Joe. My celebration of Rosh Ha Shana still includes recipes from my Mother and Grandmother plus some new items I have created as a part of something new. But no matter where I am or how many years have passed I still sigh, snicker, and sob as I recall moments of magic.

Shana Tova to all my Jewish friends, may memories never die but enrich your lives and make you happy, healthy and filled with hope.