I keep getting letters and pictures from all around the world – friends who are traveling, or who found new homes far away. One sends a sukkah from a monestary with a cross in the background, another from a field of pomegranates in Majorca with a message from Buddha. And yet it is about sukkot. how inclusive this holiday is, how it incorporates the world and all religions.
we’re not doing well with sukkahs this year. oh yeah sure, my aging friends are trying to keep up some tradition and maybe we sit on their porch under the pergola. But the prayers and the thoughts and the discussion has nothing to do with the holiday. I’m not complaining – we had a wonderful evening last night, but I think we’re really too old and tired to build sukkahs and get the kids the bring chairs and furniture and arrange a discussion about transcience and the need to understand that houses, like the houses of worship, are temporary – that only the lord is permanent. and all that. the kids want to stay home and play video games or skate board. We used to have semi sukkahs – and actually we wanted to eat under our car port with the idea that we could watch the full moon rise and feel the movement of the skies, but we’re at the point where the effort of convincing kids to help out is too much…
so we’re having dinner at home with friends and tomorrow at the beach
When we heard how miserable the kids were in isolation after they’d made such elaborate sukkot plans with their class trips, we decided to try to alleviate their misery with a tepanyaki. It may seem completely ridiculous, but our hopelessness is in so many directions that anything is a diversion.
For example, friends write me constantly about how bad the Palestinian situation is, and even those who are physically endangering themselves to protect Palestinians and to work for an independent Palestine register their sense of the impossibility of their situation – unless of course, they manage to destroy us totally.
And we’ve been trying to get hold of a tepanyaki for months. Also unsuccessfully.
My poor grandchildren are in lockdown – I don’t know the details yet but the vacation they were planning for the holiday is now cancelled and the untrained puppy who was going to keep us grandparents occupied this week is suddenly staying home. Since we can’t go out anyway with all those holiday vacationers, it means I’ll be getting some work done….
There are a lot of children in this country – children under 12. They are just going back to school in between the holidays, and many of them are sent home soon after because someone in the class has been tested positive for corona. So we old people have to watch out for our grandchildren – stay far away. And even though we’re all vaccinated our numbers are up. And now our kids are getting sick. What an inhuman situation.
Fortunately, even though the hospitals here are severely overloaded and underfunded we have one group of people that take care of us – the Arab population. They may be 20% but they are 50% of the medical staff. The days of the Jewish doctor are over.
I do want to take a moment to thank all those people in Israel who have refused vaccinations, especially our friends. It’s true we’re lab rats, but you guys are also part of the experiment. You’re the control group, and through you, we see how effective the vaccines are. Thanks again.
Unfortunately, because of you, Ezi can’t go anywhere there are people, and because I might infect him, I don’t dare either. So not only are there no concerts, plays, movies, etc., but I’ve been buying all my clothes online, and you have no idea how outdated and out-of-size my wardrobe is.
there’s something about Kol Nidre and the shofar that closes the holiday that brings everyone to the synagogue – in this case the sephardic and the ashkenazi. Social distancing.