Last week, two volunteers from Jewish Family and Children’s Services brought me a gift for Passover. In the bag was a jar of gefilte fish, a bottle of horseradish, a bottle of grape juice, a box of matzah and a large box of chocolate macaroons.
Not only did these two young people, Steve and Laurie, deliver the gift, they also stayed and visited with me. What a joy it was to have these young people listen to my stories and laugh at my joking. I told them stories of previous Passovers and the big home I entertained in.
At one memorable Passover, we had 35 people at the table, most from Alcoholics Anonymous. My husband was in recovery and these were our new friends.
Three of them said they had never been to a seder since they had been raised in orphanages. They were Jewish, a few others were not. One friend made the chicken soup and matzah balls, and I provided the rest of the seder meal. My husband and his AA sponsor did the reading from the Haggadah.
How I loved having all these people around the table. Most were experiencing a new kind of freedom, freedom from an addiction.
Then there was the seder that was a request from my younger son. Just the family, he requested. So there were six of us: my two sons, their wives, my husband and myself.
As we started reading the story of Passover my younger son stopped us and said, “Let’s make it relevant to today.” Our response was to give him permission to tell the story as he perceived it. As he spoke of the slavery and the Exodus, his brother acted it out in pantomime. It was all very spontaneous and we had a lot of laughs. That’s the way I remember Passover — as a joyous occasion.
Today I am a widow, alone in San Francisco; my sons and their families live on the East Coast. I have a studio apartment and not much room to hold a seder.
I have been to a lot of seders in hotels and at the Jewish Community Center, but the last few years I have chosen to sit down alone at home and eat the traditional foods of the holiday and give thanks for my life and the kindness of the staff at the JFCS.
My life today bears no resemblance to the life I once had, but neither am I the same person I once was.
At 81, I’ve learned that one cannot stop change. I do not long for the old days but live in the present and even the moment.
For the short time my visitors were here, I felt a connection to all Jews, and I will remember that Jews around the world will be sitting down to their seders.