I knew a guy who always complained about family events – he actually loved everyone individually, but couldn’t stand being in the room when all the people were talking to one another and he would have to make an effort to be nice.
He was thinking of the enormous family he lost in the holocaust, and the ones who remained couldn’t make up for the memories.
Now I have no right to bring this up tonight – while we are lighting candles, though, I keep remembering the Yiddish song I’ve never seen translated that begins “Oh, you little candle-lights,. You tell little histories/ Innumerable tales./ You tell of blood-spilling, skillfulness, and courage – wonders from long ago.”
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BXYlbK3fmyI