10 Days 2 Grandma's

Two Grandma’s 10 Days: My Grandma Braff arrived from Braiylia Romania at 15, supposedly to become a new citizen and a new bride. With great happiness she welcomed America into her life, but refused to marry the nephew of the uncle who sponsored her access to America. Growing older and wiser this grandmother who as a child would insist tithe she knew what was best for her, and as opinionated as ever, became very quiet concerning the Jewish High Holy Days and in particular Yom Kippur the 10th day of the days of Awe, the day God supposedly closed YOUR on book of life, deciding YOUR future for the next year. Grandma Braff would tell her grandchildren, something’s are out of your hand, you must pick and choose the ways of your life, but in the end there is God’s fate, and HIS will be the words etched on the last chapter. Become what you think you should, but it must be Gods way in the end. She would say,”If you the good thing is the right thing to do, then make life easy and choose it.”

My Grandma Buncher, was born in Pittsburgh PA. A very tough a nails lady, who understood expectations of rules and regulations, but never one to just follow them as if she had no brain. She kept Kosher, as she would explain for the healthy reasons connected with it, and would pooh-pooh anyone who said otherwise. But she was not just a female, she was her own lady, the strength behind men, the pursuer of better, the quiet storm, who could blow away a house if she needed to. Grandma Buncher, Her take on Yom Kippur, was to respect the power of Judaism, but to realize it was not Just power to become successful, but asking questions, tons of questions, even questions God may not like or even worse prefer answering. There is only one kind of fate, and it is a compromise between you and GOD.

From Rosh Hashanah to Yom Kippur 10 days dance and glide into our lives. We are to find at-one-ment as Jews to explore our world and those who find footing inside it. We are to speak to God wondering and actually WONDER WHY. This year for the first time in a long time, I am not sure which Grandmother’s philosophy I should adhere to and follow. This year I have witnessed more ignorance, hatred, selfishness, shame and evil flowing though the atmosphere from I breathe, and as I pray to my God, I choke and actually feel smothered. It makes me sad to think that the newly printed pages of pure white already have the soot of self-serving and insincere covering them with a hatful haze. I have to ask, why how, why, when and how long, this pall will remain. I also must beg God for an answer are we not all equal for fresh pages in the latest edition of the Book of Life. Shana Tova, I hope!