The imprecise measurements of all grandmothers' measurements
Hello friends,
I'm taking a break on the porch between cooking Pesach dishes for tonight, so it'll be a short one today. Cooking for the holidays always takes a lot out of me. Running around a hot kitchen for days takes a lot out of anyone, I think. But as I was making matzo balls earlier, I felt my Geegee with me. She died almost four years ago, but she's always with me when I make her recipes. She's there in the old-country way of using schmaltz instead of olive oil. She's there in the imprecise measurements of all grandmothers' recipes. She's there in the ancient rituals of our people. Even in this time of COVID and social distancing, when our whole family can't gather together, crafting old recipes brings me the comfort and joy of family.
This Pesach, only my dad and I will eat together. Holding a seder for two people doesn't feel right, so we'll skip that bit of the holiday this year. I hate it, though. Family and community are vital aspects of Jewish culture. The joy of cooking is tempered by the lack of people arriving to enjoy the results. But next year, God willing, we'll all be together again.
I need to head back inside to finish cooking. It's a bittersweet act in this time of insanity and contradictions. But it also gives me a feeling of hope. My aunt already got her first vaccine shot, and my dad gets his on Monday. I'm waiting for the state to let me schedule mine, but I'll get it soon. And as more people get vaccinated, we creep ever closer to a sense of normalcy.
Hag Pesach sameach to everyone celebrating, and happy weekend to everyone else. Next year in Jerusalem, and next year together.
Yardena