Not sure if that is a real term, but tonight is the night before the first night of Passover. I am staying awake waiting for Jon's plane to arrive (about an hour later than hoped, but in flight now). In the olden days, when we had little kids we were much more disciplined about preparing for Passover. We actually cleaned out all the closets and if Rebecca had brought home the kit with the feather and the candle, we would do that ritual together. We took our bags of leavened food over to the Bradfords and left them there, at the risk of never seeing our cereal again.
In recent years, we have alternated hosting the seder -- one year we do it at our house and the next year we go to Mom and Michael's. This is our year, and I am quite sure we have never been less prepared.
The main reason is that Jon has been in Shreveport all week and I have been utterly distracted by the sunny weather. Instead of boiling eggs and chopping apples, I have been laying plastic and planting leeks. Tomorrow we will dedicate ourselves to the preparations. Jon will go shopping (when he is away I just eat whatever is in the house, it never occurs to me to buy anything) and get all the ingredients and make brisket. I will dig around for the box that has the haggadot and seder plate. We will clear the table and make it big enough for eight.
From what I infer, all three of our children will be at seders of their own making. Alissa has been hosting a seder in New Hampshire for the last few years and this year Rebecca will join her. It seems that Benjamin might be hosting one, but I am not entirely sure about that. He asked us all for our favorite vegetarian recipes and I gave him one from his Gram (scalloped tomatoes).
There will be no children at our table, alas. But there will be lively, friendly people who will have a lot of fun being together, dipping parsley and re-experiencing that taste, layering charoset and horseradish onto matzoh, singing off key, arguing about the story.
And I will be remembering that April 3 is the anniversary of the date that Jon first learned of his diagnosis, six years ago. It has been an amazing six years. We have been incredibly lucky that he was able to return to his healthy self, ignoring (for the most part) the constant presence of a chronic disease. Six years ago, he went to the hospital after the seder in the Common House (which he did not attend) and had one of the worst nights of his life. That wasn't April 3, to be precise. It was about five days later. By now we have resumed our normal lives to the extent that we assume we can do anything. I don't think Jon has any bad associations with Passover -- his memory of that whole spring is cloudy. He can be reminded but he doesn't really have a clear picture of the sequences. I do, and every Passover I am reminded of our good fortune.
Chag sameach, everyone.
No comments:
Post a Comment