Gratitude

Well Passover was nice.  Happy hametz!

One thing to share from our seder this year.  We were with  my grandparents in Florida and Mommom (my grandmother) had a lot to say about gratitude.  

After Dayeinu I said that obviously the point is just that we're grateful for every little step of the way - each gift we're given is a gift in its own right, besides being part of a larger picture.  So when we say that "it would have been enough - dayeinu - if God had taken us across the Sea, even if God didn't give us manna to eat in the wilderness, on a literal level it's of course not true, because it wouldn't have been worth anything if we had just died in a few days on the other side; but on an emotional level, it should be true, because the gift of crossing the Sea safely should overwhelm us with gratitude in that very moment, despite whatever future challenges lie ahead.

My grandmother talked about how deeply that resonated with her experience.  When they were on the train out of Germany in January of 1939, headed towards France and a boat towards a new life in Bolivia (followed by a new life in New York), when they crossed that German border into France, Mommom said that the train erupted in such applause and cheering and crying and laughing that it must have been audible for miles around.  And no one gave a single thought to what would be next.  It was enough to be out of Germany.  And the same on the boat ride, with nothing in their pockets, seasick the whole time - nothing in front of them mattered; all that mattered was the salvation they were experiencing in that moment.

Then of course Mommom got mad at the Israelites for making the golden calf.  Some gratitude!  The shits they were!  "Ve vas more grateful zen zem!"  True that.

Later during Had Gadya, Mommom played both the cat and the fire, and worked very hard trying to remember which came when, and Poppop played a glorious shoychet, as always.

Happy hametz!

Jolly Jim the Judge

For nearly four years I have had a neighbor that I refer to as Jolly Jim the Judge.  

I met him the summer I moved here.  I was carrying a whole stack of Artscroll Talmuds for a student I was tutoring, and I arrived home with them at the end of an exhausting afternoon.  When the elevator opened, there was this big man with grey hair and a cain standing there, who said with a jolly smile, "Oops - Going down!"  Then while waiting for the door to close again, he spotted my books and said, "Are those law books?"  I didn't quite know what to say, since I realized, well, kind of they are, so I said, "Um, not exactly."  I let the elevator close and hoped that he wasn't there when it came back up, because I was just way too tired to deal with that friendly a person, and especially too tired to talk about Talmud.  And yet, when the elevator came back, there he was, jolly smile and all.  He looked at the books and saw the big word "Talmud," and said, "Ooooh, a different kind of law!"  I smiled and said, "Suppose so."  He asked what I do, and I said I'm a grad student.  "In what?"  I pointed my eyes down to my books.  "Ah, of course."  So I said, "What do you do?"  And he said in the jolliest friendliest tone, "I'm a judge."  "Wow!"  I said. " Cool!"  Ya don't really expect that.  Turned out, he lived right across the hall from me, and said, "If you need anything, never hesitate to come by."

That was the beginning of a great neighborly relationship.  Around the holidays he'd always put a card or a note under my door.  For Chanukah one year he actually bought me this great mug with a menorah on it, and when you put hot water in it the candles light up!  When I went to Florida I brought him back some of my grandmother's rugelech.  When we went away on vacation we brought in each other's mail and newspapers.  We chatted downstairs where he loved to sit outside on sunny days.  One time, the elevator broke, and I helped him slowly and laboriously up 7 flights of stairs. ( It was really lucky I came home just as he was arriving too.)  He wanted to come over and chat about my trip to Germany in November, but times got busy and I said we'd sit and talk eventually when things lightened up.  Never really did.

A few weeks ago I ran into Caroline, his fiance.  When I asked how she was, she said, "I've been better.  Jim is very sick."  Pancreatic cancer.  It had already spread to his liver and I can't remember where else.  

Last night my neighbor Zack came by - he had just heard and thought I might know more.  We said we'd keep each other posted if we heard anything.

And this morning he kept up his end.  There was a note under my door telling me Jim had passed last night.  He was 62 years old.

Jolly Jim the Judge is gone.  Very sad.  I thought the least I could do was write a little about him.

ברוך דיין אמת

Nicht oyf Shabbos geret

Having conversations that we're not having.

It's a great trick.  

On Shabbat, we're not allowed to talk about after-Shabbat.  Gotta be in the moment.  Being in the moment is key.  So we say, "Nicht oyf Shabbos geret - not to be spoken on Shabbos - but, what time are we meeting for the movie later?"  We haven't left the moment, but we manage to mention a moment that's coming later.  Sometimes it's really important, "Nicht oyf Shabbos geret, I lost my cell-phone so you won't be able call me later, so we need to set up a time now."

Sometimes there are moments that are coming that we're not yet in, nor ready to be in.  Tomorrow.  The next day.  The next year.  And we're not ready to enter them or imagine them fully.  But we might need to mention them.  We might need to acknowledge that being fully in the moment right now can't always mean forgetting that there will be other moments to come.   Because if that unspoken of moment is just looming there, hovering and growing heavier and heavier, it can take over this present moment, unless we just mention it and put it back in its place, for off in the future.

Nicht oyf Shabbos geret, as it were, if in six months.... 

Nicht oyf Shabbos geret, as it were, if you come tonight....

Nicht oyf Shabbos geret, as it were, when the time is right....

Selling a car on Shabbat is a bit much ("nicht oyf Shabbos geret, I already sold it!"  ["...47!.... Some people just don't know how to tell a joke"]).  But from time to time....  I'm just saying.  It's a pretty nice trick.