I was pulling in to a gas station when a woman standing by an SUV pointed at me. “That’s him,” I heard her say to her friend as I got out to pump gas.
“You are Avrom Caplan, aren’t you? Where’s my bat mitzvah date?”
My first reaction was to ask how she knew who I was. “Our daughters played soccer together at the JCC-Y a few years ago,” she said dismissively, not wanting to be distracted from her mission — the date for her daughter’s bat mitzvah.
Last Rosh Hashanah a friend on the ritual committee of our shul approached me with a special task. Would I be prepared to take over the job of organizing the dates for the b’nai mitzvah at the shul?
It’s not a big job, I was assured, just a couple of hours in the early fall and that’s it. Never having been much good at saying “no,” I agreed. I then met with the previous caretaker of this position and learned the tricks of the trade. Within a few weeks we met again and I showed him the fruits of my labor: a list with 30 names and dates. Each date was calculated based on the Jewish calendar and parental choices for sometime in 2008 (that’s not a typo, by the way).
Actually, next year is my son’s bar mitzvah. We’ve had his date for some time, at least two years. You would think that I would understand that you need the date two years in advance. However, for me the date has always been a hazy future time and I didn’t want to deal with it.
Actually, I still don’t, despite the calls from the caterer and the nagging need for my son to learn his parshah. After all, isn’t the “being called up” bit what it’s all about?
As we age, time seems to pass more quickly, and especially so when we watch our children grow. I can’t believe my son is 12 years old and that within a year he will become a bar mitzvah.
I am a proud parent, but the thought of a large party is not my preference. And my wife and I are being sucked into such a party. It’s all a can of worms. You want to celebrate with your family and so you need a time and place for them to gather and eat. And then you think, a little music might be nice. And I really did enjoy the last cocktail hour …
When I ask my mother, who at 87 still has a sharp mind, about her life, it’s the simchas that she remembers as the great times. She encourages me to have a simcha that we can all remember. So I want to do it for her, for the rest of my family and my wife’s family.
As the date nears, my wife and I tutor our son on his parshah, teaching him the trope. I enjoy doing this because it connects me with the mitzvah to “teach it to my children.” It also connects me to the unbroken line that passed our religion from generation to generation for the last 2,000 or so years. Now that’s worth celebrating!
As I write, our congregants with sixth graders have all received their dates in the mail. They have a lot of planning to do. Many have called already to change their dates to something more suitable, and in each call there is a life story that stretches to the times of their grandparents.
Or sometimes it is just about not wanting to conflict with a friend’s date at another shul. For some I can already sense that this is their purpose in life — to administer this party. For the most part I enjoy talking with people because the choice of a date reflects so much about their family history. I feel connected to the mission of our shul and the community it serves.