it is enough

Hello friends. Passover seems a perfect time to rekindle this connection. The time of liberation, breaking the external and internal chains that bind. The binding chain that's kept me low profile on these etherwaves--being in deep grief over Belly's death--isn't going away, but maybe at least unkinking a bit.

Amid the full house of children, grief goes a bit underground, waiting for quiet moments to come out and play. Nighttime, evenings, naptime . . . I've been feeling the emptiness, appreciating the blessings.

Preparing for last night's seder brought me deep into that space. As I unwrapped my grandmother's china, I thought about the hands of beloved relatives touching each spongy protector between each dinner plate, first course plate, dessert plate, saucer, and tea cup before the raucously fun seders presided over by my sternly serious yet big-loving grandfather. As I cooked brisket, kugel, charoses, and matzo ball soup, the aroma of my kitchen transported me to my mother's and grandmother's kitchens. As I prepared each course myself for a seder where my children and I were the only Jews (we invited a curious family of new friends to join us), I battled feelings of loneliness and feeling sorry for myself, but knew I was stepping into a new role of matriarch for my own young ones. As I ate the macaroons and toffee matzo and my friends expressed their gratitude for both the food and the meaning of the service, I felt full in a balanced way.

Being sole cook and rabbi was a daunting undertaking, but as usual, I didn't really think much about it when I decided to do it. And really, what was the option? Not doing it? In the end, we all found so much to be grateful for here in the land of the heart.

And we saw our first purple crocus today. A miracle, I tell you, a flower coming out of the ground. A true spring miracle.

Comments

[macky/mom]

wonderful, as ususal!!!!!!!!!!

[Nancy]

Love you Rachel! Your table looked beautiful and I wish we had all been there.