Passover

Okay then...

Seriously I have very few memories of Passover seders.. There were none in the early years, then Mother decided it was time to acknowledge our Jewish heritage and the seders began. Unfortunately bringing wine into our home was a disaster as my father was often drunk already and my sister had a thing for Manaschewitz and Mogen David wines (after dinner she drank down Elijah's wine right fast). Back then I wouldn't drink wine I was above it and my brother Frank has never had a problem with alcohol so he didn't get messed up. Meanwhile Mother was into horseradish (strange woman) and I suspect a large part of the seder idea was so she could set a fancy table and get the entire family to sit down together. I say this since we didn't discuss Judaism for most of the remainder of the year.

One year we hadn't paid the electric so the matzoh had to be found in the dark. Oh that was a regular laugh riot as my cousin Norman tripped over an extension cord and split his head open as he crashed into a table. The table didn't make it by the way, neither did the nonfunctioning lamp on top of it but on a brighter side the 8 boxes of Kleenex tissue on the lower shelf survived with only a few splinters (did I mention that Mother was strange? She stockpiled Kleenex tissues, I kid you not). By the way Norman developed a nasty infection but you'll be glad to know he grew up and became a furniture maker, so he didn't develop a lifelong hatred of wood.

Those Passover seders only lasted a few years, then I left home and even though my sister invited me a few times here and there, as have others, I haven't gone.

Then of course the best part of Passover...the little bag of candy and the Passover Haggadah which was in it which my grandmother bought for each of her grandchildren every year at Barton's Candy Store in New York (at times we lived there too). It came in a little plastic bag about 4 inches tall by 6 inchs wide and had a hard plastic handle and the two parts of it (front and back) snapped together to keep it closed. I guess the Passover candy bag from Barton's is my favorite memory of Passover. As to the seder itself, the best part was when I got to read a little part out of that Haggadah.

Sorry I can't offer you any more than this but aside from my limited exposure to my Judaic heritage, it has been nearly 40 years since I last took part in a seder. Hopefully others will see this topic and respond.

The last seder I was at was, hmm, 12 years ago? I think, something like that.

I am the youngest and the next generation wasn't quite up to speed yet (and my husband, who is younger than me, doesn't read Hebrew) so, at age 31, I was doing the 4 Questions.

And then of course I answered myself.

The thing I've always liked about seders is that everyone participates in some fashion. It's usually with reading, but also with cooking or just asking what things are and explaining them. And that's essentially what the meal is all about. A child or a layperson asks what's going on, and the family responds. The matzoh means this. The bitter herbs mean that. etc. Everyone gets a piece of the action.

I also recall, at age 14, a seder where my uncle (now deceased) brought slivovitz and fresh horseradish root. They both take the eye makeup right off ya.

I went to many seders with my grandmother, who lived in Florida; my spring break would usually fall over Passover, and that's when we'd go visit her. My dad is not religious, so that was pretty much my only regular religious ritual -- for example, I know much more about Passover than Hannukah.

That said, it's still fuzzy, and in looking backward I am interrupted by a rather raucous seder held at a Jewish co-op in Madison, particularly the loud and lusty rendition of "Let My People Go." That was probably the last seder I attended (after my grandma died). What I remember with my grandmother is the good china, the exquisite little wine glasses, the way she wanted to do everything in a precise way while my dad rolled his eyes and wanted to get on with it, and horseradish. Hmm.

Sturgis, if you had been using the word christmas rather than passover, I would have thought you were my brother Fred.