Sometimes I miss my mom and dad so much I feel my heart might jump out of my chest. This is not because they’ve passed away. In fact, they’re healthy, active 60-year-olds. I just happen to live 2,000 miles away from them.
What can I say? The allure of San Francisco is powerful. So I stay. For now. Every holiday I feel a little pang of regret that my adopted city means I’ve chosen to be apart from my parents on many holidays. (I can’t go home for them all!)
But in the past year I’ve found surrogate parents. And while they can’t quite measure up to my own mom and dad (no one can compare to Esther and Mark), their kindness and hospitality have made me feel I have much-appreciated parental guidance nearby.
I met Judy and Terry Matzkin at a Shabbat dinner at Lafayette’s Temple Isaiah, where they are active members and even go to Torah study every Saturday morning.
At first, I wasn’t sure they even liked me. Terry was a bit quiet; Judy accosted me about how j. doesn’t report enough on the Contra Costa Jewish community and drilled me with questions about why this is the case.
We went to the synagogue so Ben, my boyfriend, could make a presentation during the congregation’s monthly “meet and greet.” I was moral support.
Judy took to Ben. She loved his message but thought his presentation needed major improvements. She told him precisely this. Since she had years of experience in marketing, she offered to help him for free.
The two proceeded to meet every few weeks at her home in Danville. Ben would bring pie and pastries, Judy would supply the marketing wisdom.
After months of this, Ben offered to cook a thank-you meal for her and her husband, and invited me (and my cooking skills) to come along.
I remember being nervous as we approached their front door. The last time I had seen Judy she didn’t seem too happy about my newspaper’s coverage of her county.
She greeted us with open arms at the door. I instantly felt at ease.
Ben and I had brought homemade ceviche with fresh tomatoes, peppers, avocado and cilantro, garnished with blue corn chips. Judy and Terry gushed about how tasty it was, and asked tons of questions about our lives in San Francisco, how we met and our thoughts on Jewish life.
We returned a few months later, in December. This time the four of us made homemade chili with the works, a savory dinner on a cool winter night. We held hands around the kitchen table and sang the motzi, then dug into our collaborative meal.
Judy sent us home with Chanukah gelt and leftovers. The next day she e-mailed me with kudos about the recipe and questions about its particulars.
When March rolled around, Judy and Terry invited us to their first-night Passover seder. Terry led us through a wonderful albeit lengthy seder; Judy gently reminded him to hurry up.
At one point in the seder, Terry asked questions about our Passover memories. I shared with seder guests the story of how my cousins and I hid the afikomen from the adults. They couldn’t find it. We thought we were so clever to hide it in the VCR. When the matzah crumbs trickled into the VCR and broke it, we were suddenly not so clever as much as in trouble.
After a tasty festive meal, we laughed about my first encounter with Judy over the most amazing Passover desserts I’ve ever had.
When I asked Judy how she made her meringues so fluffy, she told me her baking secret (let the separated eggs come up to room temperature before mixing) and invited me over for a baking lesson “sometime when Terry and Ben are busy.” I hope to take her up on the offer soon.
The only people I spend significant amounts of time with who are of my parents’ age are my superiors at work. So it’s refreshing and fun to have made friends who dote on me like parents.
Thank you, Judy and Terry, for filling the gap of the Jewish parents who live too far away.
Stacey Palevsky lives in San Francisco. She can be reached at [email protected].