“Where are you going today?”
That was the question posed to me this morning by a friend while I was on my way out the door. At that moment, I had an agenda. Fix my eyeglasses, buy more fruits and vegetables. You know, the typical errands. But my mind started to wander….
What if?
Well……. I can take the bus to any destination in Israel.
Standing on Har Hertzl, on Yom HaZikaron.
I looked around me,
and I saw sadness.
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This past Shabbat, we were sitting around the dining room table enjoying the delicious foods I had cooked based on everyone’s specific preferences. Roasted asparagus for my oldest, pumpkin muffins for my son, and cauliflower for his twin sister, just to name a few. Conversations ensued, expected fights amongst the kids broke out, and laughter and giggles over the silliest things filled the room.
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Many times we are so focused on the present, the here-and-now, and the future, the where-are-we-going, that we don’t spend the time reflecting on the past, the where-we-came-from. Unless of course, we’re sitting in history class. And if you’re like me, you didn’t necessarily enjoy history class.
The truth is, we owe it to the past generations to remember them. My husband’s grandmother, Bubba, as we affectionately call her, a Holocaust survivor, always says: “Without me, none of this would be!” And she’s right. We can’t take our life for granted when so many struggles were made before us, so that our life would be easier.
These are Pesach (Passover) Memories that will last a lifetime:
Watching as the heart-shaped ices drip down your cheeks and arms, splashing onto your toes that are peeking out of your open toe sandals.
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