Tradition
As Fall arrives so do the Jewish holidays and growing up this meant many hours of helping my Mom in the kitchen. From a very young age we would make strudel- a secret family recipe but one of our favorite days of the year. My brother and I both in oversized aprons, my Mom rolling out dough and us filling it with toppings. It was a huge mess with flour everywhere but something we looked forward to each year. As I grew up and became an adult, I remember doing more- my Mom and I would menu plan together and many years I would come in early to help her cook - rolling out strudel, peeling carrots and slicing celery for the brisket and chicken soup, and baking apple and honey cakes.
It has been two years since we hosted a holiday dinner in our home, the last being Rosh Hashanah in 2019. Yes, in this pandemic we have found other ways to celebrate on zoom and outside but nothing indoors. On a whim last weekend I suggested to my husband that we host an early Rosh Hashanah dinner with just us and our fully vaccinated parents on Friday night to ensure we saw them before anyone attended services.
In truth it was knowing that our son’s memories of hosting holidays in our home were fading that initially propelled me to do this but I realize now we all needed this evening. I took off work Friday to spend my day cooking - preparing our usual Rosh Hashanah meal. As I stood cooking most of the day, my hands prepared these dishes from memory and as the smells slowly started to come out of the oven we were all overcome with the feelings of Fall and new beginnings. This holiday and meal are once again marking this moment in our year and filling us all with comfort.
I did not appreciate until I was elbow deep in carrot skins how much I had missed this ritual of preparing a holiday meal, no matter how much work it was. I knew I was carrying on the traditions of my Mom and Grandmother and the many generations before them. And as we lit the candles and dipped apples in honey together I again felt the power of celebrating our traditions together.
After living without these rituals for so long I had forgotten how much they both ground me in the present and connect me to my past. For those hours my fears and anxiety of the week disappeared and I found safety in my own space of traditions. In a time when there is so much uncertainty and feelings of vulnerability I was reminded of why we need to carry on our rituals- safely of course. I like so many in the last 18 months did not want to go through the effort of cooking large holiday meals telling myself I could wait for normalcy to return but there are consequences of this even for the most resilient.
The fears I feel now are similar to those that I had trying to navigate my life after my rare disease diagnosis. Just as I carefully planned my reentry into a world full of triggers I must continue to push myself to do the same now. I know it may take greater effort to do certain things but I have already proven I can find my way back to traditions and rituals I never thought I would get back and I know I can do this again.
Life is far too short and too sweet to spend days apart or on screens unable to feel the energy that comes from being alive and together in one space. But I also know this will look different for us all. I am far from being ready to be in any large space but Friday not only proved to me it is possible but necessary to find ways to bring some of our pre-pandemic traditions back no matter the effort it takes. For these are the moments that recenter us in our present and prepare us for whatever our future days may hold.
Wishing only good things to those facing new beginnings this Fall and a happy and healthy New Year to those celebrating.
