'Home' for the holiday

I took this photo Saturday with my cell phone at Bethesda Fountain in Central Park. A popular gathering place, it's frequently a backdrop in movies. Jeanne, Katie and I sat on a bench in the warm sun and could have stayed all day, but Katie and I had to head back home. The park visit was a part of our whirlwind Friday/Saturday visit to New York for Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year.

When I was in high school, I hung out at the fountain frequently. Most of my friends lived downtown, so we tended to congregate more there. But I also went to the fountain, much of the time with my cousin Nancy, who lived uptown like me. Nancy was (and still is) nine months older and seemed so grown-up and cool to me. She hung around with a bunch of older kids, including a couple of guys who frightened and fascinated me. (What were they, probably all of 19?) I trotted along with Nancy, doing what teen-agers did at the fountain in those days. It was, as they said, groovy.

This past Saturday, a gaggle of college-age students in Speedos ran around the fountain, stopping in front of people to perform little songs and goofy dances for them, then holding out their hat. I told Katie that if some silly guys did that in "our day," we would have thrown them into the fountain. (Oh, will those aging baby boomers ever stop talking about the good old days?)

Around this time last year, I wrote a post, Should I Stay or Should I Go?, about my indecision about returning to the "old country" for the holiday. I was about three-and-a-half months past my third transplant, and although I was, and am, attached to the traditions and to going to services, I stayed home and sent Katie alone to meet up with Ben and cousins. I had a little get-together at my house where we ate a round challah with honey, symbolizing no sharp edges and a sweet New Year.

This year I actually went, although Dr. Alyea said I shouldn't go to the crowded services. Once again, as it has been for all my little getaways, the weather was perfect. Katie and I drove down Friday afternoon and moved our stuff into the apartment building where I grew up, and where we now stay with my mother's 93-year-old friend, Muriel, who has become like an aunt to us. Then we went to a restaurant called Deux Amis, where we had dinner outside with my real aunt, Marge; her husband, Bill; and my cousin Jeanne, who brought a round challah. I'm not supposed to eat in a restaurant, but I can sit at outside tables, and I can order cooked food (not salads or anything raw.)

The next day when Ben and Katie went to services, Jeanne kept me company walking around the upper east side, near the 92nd Street Y, where the services are. For lunch, we met another cousin, Joanne, at an outside cafe – most of the places have outdoor tables now – and then ended up in the park. We really didn't want to leave. It would be nice if there was a machine that would woosh you up to where you want to go, so that you could linger but still get back home at a reasonable hour. But alas, there isn't, and we ended up getting home around 9 p.m.

Two large school systems around us, Amherst and Longmeadow, have a sufficient Jewish population to close on the Jewish holidays. But South Hadley does not. It felt good to be in the city, where store doors carried signs reading "Closed for Rosh Hashanah" and people dressed for temple crowded the streets.

Back home, we felt good that we had said the prayer over the round challah, visited with family and maintained some tradition. It was, of course, different, because we grew up celebrating it with my parents, who hosted the holiday dinner the night before, and then took us to a relative's house after temple. I missed them. But I could still hear my father saying, "Here's to a sweet New Year with no sharp edges!" He loved to say that.

L'Shanah Tovah. Peace and good health to everyone.

There are many ways to observe a holiday

I still have hydrangeas! They beautified the holiday table.

Yesterday, the Jewish New Year, I was reminded that there are many ways of staying connected.

In the previous post, I talked about wanting to go to relatives’, yet, at Day+110, being worried about germs and fatigue.

I decided to stay put. Just because I’m now allowed to go into other peoples’ homes, I still should be cautious. I want to thank everyone who called, e-mailed, posted comments or reminded me in person that I would be OK if I stayed home.

I also decided that I would invite friends over for a little holiday meal Tuesday night. In keeping with my theory that doing something different keeps your mind off your troubles, I planned to make the traditional round challah from scratch. Also on my menu would be Nach Waxman’s beef brisket, from “The New Basics” cookbook by Silver Palate authors Julee Rosso and Sheila Lukins.

When I got the ingredients, I also purchased a honeydew melon and honey cake for a sweet New Year.

Monday after school, I put Katie on the train to New York, where our cousin Serena would meet her and go with her to services the next day. (How did parents do it without cell phones? We talked after she switched trains in New Haven and after Serena met her at Penn Station.)

Then I took a walk and thought about the past and the present. As I said before, I'm not especially religious, though I do like to think I'm spiritual. As I walked around the beautiful lake across the street on the Mount Holyoke campus, I worked on quieting the chatter in my mind, which gave me a greater feeling of connection.

I went home and did the first step in making the brisket, which I would continue cooking on Tuesday. My cousin Betsy’s husband Michael had reminded me via e-mail of a basic reason I shouldn’t go anywhere: “An important concept in Jewish law is to sustain your health and all else gives way to that.” He said they would put me on speaker phone at the holiday dinner I used to attend with my parents.

That night, while the homey smell of cooking brisket filled my kitchen, I “participated” in the holiday dinner being held in Queens. I listened, and talked, via speaker, while they said a few prayers for the holiday and a “misha beirach” prayer for healing in my name and that of another relative who has been ill. Then they passed the phone and I talked to everyone.

Meanwhile Katie and Serena had met Ben and the rest of the New York contingent at a restaurant. (Hmmm, I guess I should say “Manhattan contingent,” but to me Manhattan is New York.) They passed the phone around and I talked to everyone there.

Having already made it through Monday without experiencing what my sister calls the “bare light bulb feeling,” I started out Tuesday in a good mood. First, I exercised. (OK, true confession, I played tennis.) Then I sort of lollygagged with the newspaper, until my mother’s voice told me, “If you’re going to have people over, you need to GET GOING.” Right. I made the challah and was quite proud when I braided it and it did indeed look like a challah.

Phone calls came from the 212 area – my parents’ friends wishing me a healthy and happy New Year.

I set the table with care, picking the lingering blue and purple hydrangeas from my garden. I put out my mother’s plates with the pretty flower design. My friends Deb and Mary came, as did Mary’s son, AJ, and her husbnd, Jerry. We lit a candle and said the blessings. As I cut into the challah, I heard my father explaining, as he loved to do, “The challah is round for a year with no sharp edges.”

The dinner conversation was lively and filled with good cheer.

I did not feel alone at all.