Why I Have No Inspiring Passover Piece
Sharon April 7th, 2009
Every year in the spring I get requests for Passover pieces. Don’t I want to write about freedom, justice, the parallels between….could I do a piece on food storage and passover…would I… And every single year I assiduously ignore them. In principle, I absolutely agree that the Passover story and the practicalities of dealing with large quantities of chametz (the stuff you don’t eat during the holiday) during Pesach merit discussion. In principle I agree that the Passover story is a deep well from which to draw text. And I’ve written pieces for lesser Jewish holidays – Shemini Atzaret (no, this one will not be on the quiz), Tu B’Shevat, Chanukah, Sukkot, Purim. Shouldn’t I do Pesach?
In practice, between cleaning the house for Pesach (those of you who are not Jewish, and those of you who have not been to my house will have no sense of the scale of trying to get every bleeding crumb off the floor, out of the corners, off my children….), getting organized and preparing, as is typical, to go away to visit family, plus dealing with the annual Passover crisis (which is inevitable) means that, well, I got nothin’.
The Passover crisis is a rule in our family. Something bizarre must happen to make all the preparation extra-difficult. It could be illness (we’ve had strep and stomach viruses), it could be the weather (we’ve had late snowstorms and floods), it could be a good thing that simply sucks up our time (my book deadline last year, a friend’s wedding the day before Pesach) but whatever happens, it means that there is no orderly, even Passover preparation, just volumes of chaos. There was the year I spent Passover sumping out the basement, staying behind while Eric and the boys went to New York City, to tend the floodwaters during melt off. Worst of all was the year that Eric’s grandmother fell down a flight of stairs at her cousin’s during Pesach, and died a few days later. I hate to put something as big as that in with the others, but as Gilda Radner used to say “Its always something!”
This year was no different. We had planned a complex itinerary for what was to be our only trip before Selene’s kids are due. First, we would go visit family and friends in Boston, and then to New York, with assorted other stops in transit. There were no fewer than three different people helping us with different animal arrangements, as well as multiple travel dates (I was coming back early), and the involvement of half a dozen other people in scheduling. Each day was mapped out pretty much hourly to maximize time with beloved family and friends.
The day before we left, we were a little worried, in between the frantic final cleanings, laundry and packing. Eli seemed, well, subdued. He had no temperature, no symptoms, he was just quiet and tired and a little off his feed. Was he sick? The visit to Boston involved several newborn babies, and we could not go if any illness was detected. But in the morning Eli was back to normal, and we managed to convince ourselves it was nothing.
We drove four long hours to Boston, with a stop at Old Sturbridge Village on a cold, rainy day. Arriving late in the afternoon, following two weeks of non-stop cleaning and organizing, my Eric and I could hardly wait to sit, drinking a glass of wine with my family, meet the new babies (which I’ve seen but no one else has), enjoy an evening out (with in house free babysitting), and other delights.
Within half an hour after our arrival, Simon threw up all over my mother’s floor. Ooops, it turns out that perhaps Eli was under the weather after all. So much for delights. After some hasty consultation, we grumpily determined that since my mother was childcare provider for one of the babies, we couldn’t expose her to illness, and that our visit would result in virtual quarantine, since no one could come see us. So, those of us who wanted to eat, ate dinner, we got in the car, and we drove four more hours home (for the record, we don’t customarily drive 8 hours for dinner).
By the time we hit Danvers (my mother lives in Beverly), Isaiah had thrown up all over the car. By the time we hit home, my limbs were permanently numbed (our little car is not very comfortable when all six of us are in it, and 8 hours in it is a new record) and Eric and I were driving each other crazy by imagining what we could be doing instead of riding home in the vomit-scented car. The next day we were all cranky, the kids were recovering, it was raining icily and everyone was exhausted from the late night trip. The following day Eric and I were sick, and spent the day trying (and sort of failing) to be noble about whose turn it was to go lie down.
I know that I ought to write something inspiring about freedom, dayenu, the four questions, food storage and Moses. Or something. But I just can’t pull it off. Every year I plan a Pesach piece. Every year I fail. It is perhaps my own personal Dayenu – it is enough, most years, simply to make it to the seder table in whatever condition. It is enough we’re all here. It is enough that we’re ready for a week of matzah, enough that we will be recovered from our illness before we encounter my MIL’s brisket, enough that we made it to the holiday. It isn’t always good to expect too much.
A good holiday to all of you celebrating this week!
Sharon
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Somehow in my extended family someone’s kids are always sick for the big holidays. It’s gotten to where my sister and I call each other up and ask “whose turn is it to barf this time?” You have all my sympathy!
Ilargi and Stoneleigh sometimes schedule a guest commentor when they know things are going to be hectic.
I recommend that you schedule a guest commentor to do a Pesach piece for you next year, on the assumption
that there will be something.
I think you did just write a piece, which may or may not have been your intention. The moral of the story?
Life happens. Make the best out of it. Life happens to us, we don’t happen to it. And in the midst, family and religion must find their form and fit. Or in other words, learn to go with the flow!
I don’t care which religion you follow or don’t follow, it is a good lesson we all need to learn.
So there you go. You DID do a Pesach piece!
I can definitely feel your pain as having a terrible trip. It seems that every time I have to be someplace on time or have a short window to actually be there something goes wrong with a cow or calf or something doesn’t run. I believe in Murphy’s Law so much so that my wife and son usually go without me.
I’ve never planned a passover celebration as I’m not Jewish but this sounds like a couple of Christmas’ my family has had.
this is as good a Passover piece as any you could do. I think some holidays have minds of their own
may you all feel better soon,
shamba
God am I glad we have few relatives by us and no particular religious tradition we follow. It’s well known that Xmas is the big time when extended families get together once a year and pretend to be happy but get all sorts of old arguments coming up. On top of that the hectic scheduling and everything is making such an unnatural stress. Life is overplanned. I think we should just go wild and celebrate the sun coming up or whatever we feel and just let it be.
Speaking of the sun coming up, there is a once-in-28 yrs. Jewish event at the beginning of Passover this year that celebrates exactly that! According to a text in the Talmud, the sun returns to its exact location at the time of its creation once every 28 years on a Wednesday morning in early spring. As a result, Jews have marked this rare occasion with a special blessing
called Birkat haHammah, the blessing of the sun. Hooray for the cycles of nature and the divine presence in all….even those who throw up in the car. -Shosh
Barukh atah Adonai Eloheinu melekh ha‑olam, she‑hehiyanu v’kiy’manu v’higi’anu la‑z’man ha‑ze.
Blessed are You, LORD, our G-d, King of the universe, who has kept us alive, sustained us, and enabled us to reach this season.
Normally, my husband and I drive an hour to my parents’ house for a big family gathering on Christmas, which makes for kind of a frantic couple of days, depending on my work schedule, as I try to put together the lasagna I’m supposed to bring, bake 12,000 special, time-consuming pastries I only make for my Dad once a year (and which now have to be made in umpteen variations, because we now need sugar-free, dairy-free, gluten-free, chocolate, vanilla … yoikes!)
This year, we had almost two feet of snow on the ground, and told them there was no way we could make it; we’d be by that weekend, after the snow melted.
I was surprised at how blissful it was. We spent as long as we wanted to, playing with the dogs in the morning, and watching them open their toys (dogs love presents, and always want to help us open ours, too.) Then a leisurely breakfast, no hurrying because we were running late. In the afternoon, my husband ground flour for me, and I made his favorite meal, raviolis, with the greens I had on hand (we’d been snowed in for a week, so there was some improvising, with sorrel and herbs), and the tomato sauce I’d canned last summer. It was so relaxing, I was tempted to make it an annual tradition.
I love the big family gathering, too, of course, but goodness, that was a lovely Christmas.
So sorry about everyone being ill and missing the holiday; hope you’re all feeling better, and have some time to relax.
As for not knowing when it’s going to be barf city — our son (now 28) was two when he chose Missoula, Montana as the place in which to cover the entire interior of a trailer-towing Suburban with his lunch, en route from Lochsa, Idaho to Cave Springs, Georgia. Turned out he had picked up giardia from inadequately treated water from a stream some moose had been pooping in. We didn’t get to the in-laws’ house till over a week later, and he was in pretty good shape by then. But, still!
Trust me, these are your good years … mazel tov.
I’m so glad our small traditions are local and no fuss! Christmas is either next door or 20 mins away at my sisters place (we would but haven’t the space). The school has quite a few traditions but those are joint efforts. (we have a harvest festival tomorrow). And thats it really.
Although the last time we went away for a weekend I got a bad bout of norovirus and we came home. That was supposed to be a romantic get away just for us!!!! Murphy’s law rules.
viv in nz
I can totally relate to “The Passover crisis is a rule”. This year, the day we were supposed to be moving out the chametzticka dishes, I got sick, and I’m the heavy lifter in the family. Today, when we are supposed to be moving in the pesaticka dishes, my mom gets sick. I do hope you have a wonderful Pesach though.
How are you doing your Pesach sustainably? We went to the supermarket, but as far as organic, pesaticka food went, the closes we came was whole wheat matzah. I was dissatisfied, but what can you do?
Blessed be to all.
Oh Sharon, hugs to you. I also have 4 children, and the closest family lives 4 hours away. It makes visiting FUN! And normally our trips are with one of the adults staying home to tend the animals.
Someday when they are grown I will think back to all the fun we had, just not right now, lol.
Hi Sharon,
Once the “pain” has faded (in several years) I guarantee that this story will become part of your family lore: 5 years ago, the last Thanksgiving we all shared in my parents’ vacation home, my brother and family decided to come even though they knew their daughter had a queasy stomach which ALWAYS heralded stomach flu (ie they definitely had some prior notice, unlike you)…said daughter spent the afternoon sitting next to my daughters and my sister’s kids. At bedtime, queasy daughter hurls all over the sleeping pads and sleeping bags. That’s when my brother decides to leave…on the way home he, his wife and their other kid hurled all over their car. My sister’s family also left, they made it home before everyone got sick. That night, my mom and other brother went ‘active’. My other brother had some tough moments when he tried to get into the locked side of the two-door bathroom and had to endure my laughter as he raced around the house to the other (unlooked) door to the bathroom. My dad and my family didn’t get sick, although we left early just in case…Ah, memories…
But seriously, I hope you guys are better now and have all recovered!
LisaH
“Some days just living is enough” – a quote from a page in an old diary I have lying around somewhere.
Maybe I should find a suitable quote from “Meditations for women who do too much” but I’m too busy to go looking for it.
Cheer up, God loves you anyway.
I am so so sorry you had to suffer all that. I hope and pray you get much rest.
Love,Shelley
I’m still trying to figure out why my Mother choose the Tuesday before Passover to have her kitchen painted – it only complicated the process of preparation!
OTOH, my cousin and I had gone thru’ her pantry earlier and gotten rid of all her out of date stuff, so there was less total stuff to go thru’.
Passover isn’t that complicated for us – son and my mother are Jewish, husband and his mother are Methodist, I’m Pagan. So for this *I* don’t have a competing big holiday. And we choose to not travel for it, since son couldn’t really visit Bob’s mother and get Easter goodies when he was young and it would overlap Passover. Now that he’s in college (and commuting there from home) he has classes so we don’t travel.
Fern
We lived in Michigan for a few years when our kids were little, and drove 8 to 10 hours (depending on weather and how many bathroom or discipline stop we had to make) to Kentucky where the rest of our family lives. In the beginning, we took all of the holiday necessities with us – Christmas presents and baked goods, or Easter baskets and baked goods. Things got broken or messed up, throwing up was expected as our middle daughter gets car sick (she’s 27 and still does). I worked in daycare for several years before having children, so my ears were keenly tuned for that sound that usually precedes the Big One. I have found that a gallon jug with the top cut off makes an excellent emesis bowl, however, I have been known to open my window and pitch the contents of a half-drunk cup of iced tea out and throw the cup back to the vomiter. Usually when we got there, there was a sibling (I have five of them and my husband has seven) with a sick kid (“…well, we decided to come anyway, because we really wanted to see you all – he’s not that sick…”) who passed the goods on to us. So even if no one was sick when we got there, almost certainly, everyone would be sick when we left. We just kind of accepted it, and enjoyed our time together, however short it may have been. We still get together at Thanksgiving and celebrate our unique familiness (probably not a real word, but it works). Lots of food and talk, babies, babies, babies!!! And toddlers! And talkative great-nieces and reticent great-nephews. Husbands dozing in the living room. My parents are in their eighties now and I don’t know how much longer we’ll be able to keep it up. But it is certainly worth the effort. We’ve driven through blizzards and tornado watches/warnings and had several car breakdowns (my husband is a whiz at reattaching things with a piece of coat hanger). I’m glad we did it, though I’m sure I did plenty of grumbling at the time. And it makes for great ‘ remember when…’ stories later! Shared experiences – what family is all about! Now I’ve got to go outside and look for spring beauties and those cute little blue butterflies, and breathe the spring air. Blessed be!!
I posted regarding your view on the impact of the Israeli security wall which runs through Palestinian farmland on the ability of Palestinian families to feed themselves.
My post has disappeared.
Do you not allow a discussion of this issue?
My theory is that Passover (and Easter, and Nawruz, and all the other spring holidays) are really a way to get the men out of the house so the women can get on with spring cleaning.
And also that we know the Exodus from Egypt was a miracle because, unlike all the other family excursions in history, nobody was pulled over for speeding and none of the kids got carsick.
Hope y’all are well now.
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