And who does Mama teach to mend and tend and fix ...

I believe in God.

I keep a kosher home.

When my children turned 13, each of them in turn became a bar or bat mitzvah -- literally, a son or daughter of the commandment -- and took their places as an "adult" in the Jewish community.

As an adult, I have always belonged to a synagogue and gone to services on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur.

Until now.

This year, I let my temple membership lapse and didn't purchase tickets (yes, you need tickets) to the holiday services. I continually walked past the envelope of membership information without taking action.

As early as Friday morning (before Rosh Hashanah began at sundown), I still had no plan. Fortunately, my BFF rescued me from my malaise and offered my family a place at her synagogue with her family.

But as I sat in services on Saturday morning, flanked by the Roo-girl and Z-man, I realized one of the sources of my problem.

Tradition -- or, rather, the lack of.

For years, my parents hosted a night-before dinner on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. When that stopped, they hosted post-services lunch on Rosh and a break-the-fast on Yom.

This year, there was none. Some of that was due to my mother's breast cancer diagnosis not being as clean and pretty as we had hoped. She was clearly not up to hosting anything.

But even so, I realized I have nothing in its place. The torch has not passed to another family member, nor have I taken up the challenge myself.

So there was nothing. No dinner. No lunch. No family gathering. And I barely managed to find a place to worship with the two children of mine who still live under my roof.

My childhood and, frankly, adulthood are filled with memories of holiday dinners at first my grandparents and then my parents.

Right now, I despair at the memories -- or lack thereof -- I am making for my children ...

Crossposted at From the Planet of Janet

Comments

[Ora]

I know exactly what you mean. In my family, the torch has definitely passed to me- with all of the work. I hosted almost the entire family on my father's side for dinner on RH (and another family of friends) so that we were 23. Lots of work, barely controlled chaos, but you know? It was worth it.

Likewise, on Sunday morning, all I wanted to do was roll over and go back to sleep. But that wasn't even an option that went through my mind because I was taking my Dad and Abe and Rosie to shule.

The Rabbis may think that their learnings are what has kept this religion together, but in reality, it's the mamas and tradition.

Maybe next year, you'll start small and have some family over for the Holy Days. Think about joining a shule during the year- for the community. (then think of invitations from friends for dinners!)

[songbird]

oh, Janet....you got thrown for a loop because of your mother's illness....next year it will be better.....

At least yours went to shul....Becca came Saturday and spent the whole morning in the synagogue lobby, hanging with her friends. She couldn't motivate herself to do it again sunday....and Jen never set foot in the building....