Well, here we go. I’ve started making my Pesach lists as I sit here eating Purim chocolates, which I should have given away or thrown out but of course didn’t. Has a year gone by already? This has been the fastest year yet. I’d like to blame it on COVID which kept us constantly moving from one thing to the next. Maybe I’m just getting old because I’ve always heard older people talk this way about how time flies. Nah, I’ll just blame it on COVID.
I can’t get over
the weather. The sun is shining so brightly, hinting that spring is really on
the way. In the fall, I planted daffodils in the woods beyond our apartment. I
wanted to be able to see them while sitting on our deck in the spring. Of all
the spring flowers, daffodils are my favorite. Their yellow trumpets are always
perfectly shaped, which, to me, mirrors Hashem’s perfection. I performed an
experiment and planted some bulbs in pots, which I put outside on the deck.
They sat there all winter, and since they weren’t planted very deeply, their
green stalks poked up through the dirt and peeped out through the snow when
winter was still making its presence known. I brought some inside and, wonder
of wonders, those daffodils actually bloomed, long before their relatives
outside in the ground did.
I don’t know why
flowers and plants thrill me. I never grow tired of caring for them and
watching them grow. Perhaps it’s like caring for children: something from
within, a feeling of nurturing that puts a smile on my face. Whatever it is,
it’s a wonderful feeling.
I’m taking stock
of what I’ll need this Pesach. Taped on my Pesach boxes are my lists which help
considerably because there’s just no way I could remember everything from year
to year. It makes me feel better knowing that my 30-year-old daughter can’t
remember either. It seems that shopping and cooking this year will be a breeze
because, like last year, it will be a Yom Tov for two. There will be no one to
make elaborate meals for and no special treats for the grandchildren. My
husband and I have specific diets that we follow, so there won’t be chocolate
pudding or ice cream or any other sugary treats. We’ll probably not have roast
since there’s no one to eat it but us. We’re not big fans of cabbage, so
stuffed cabbage is out. We don’t eat deli anymore or any other processed meats
either. We’ve figured out along the way what we enjoy and have gotten a little
creative. Some might argue that the food we eat may not be Yom Tovdik, but it
works fine for us.
I remember when
our children were young and cooking was a major undertaking. Getting a Pesach
kitchen after many years was much appreciated, but I still panicked before
making the first batch of brownies. Once I was over that hump, it was smoother
sailing. Now, I feel just a twinge of those panicky feelings, but experience
has definitely helped me keep them at bay, and they dissipate much faster these
days when they do come.
I guess I have my
age to thank for that. My cumulative experiences have tipped the scales in
favor of feeling less afraid. I have been making Pesach for over 30 years now,
and I wear that badge proudly. I know what to expect, how to plan, organize,
and cook, and how to feed an army. I can laugh now at that little fear bug and
just flick it away. I couldn’t have done that when I was younger.
Come to think of
it, I wasn’t able to do a lot of things 30 years ago. Women my age have worked
on themselves, and many of us have changed and grown into someone different
than we were before. I’ve spoken to my friends, who feel free and happy in
their discoveries – like butterflies
breaking out of their chrysalis.
I can’t say that
I’m excited, though, at how my body has changed. It doesn’t thrill me to watch
it age. At the same time, I know that, baruch
Hashem, kain ayin hora, life is better than ever. On the inside, I still
feel like a child, full of wonder and excitement, and I’m happy to embrace what
life has to offer. I don’t think I could have gotten here without the bumps and
bruises and the aching joints I’ve developed in recent years. I see that I
can’t have one without the other. I’m trying to remember now what I have to do
for Pesach, but know that’s futile at my age, so I smile as I take out my list to
see what’s next.
Zahava Hochberg
enjoys spending time with her children and grandchildren. She can be reached at zrspeech@gmail.com
