Sitting in the Sukkah

The hard work is worth it. The simple act of eating in the sukkah is like having Shabbat for a week. 

Sitting in a sukkah forces you to sit and talk a spell. It's what I always thought it would be to have a wrap-around porch with white rockers.

On a normal night, immediately after dinner, we often clear the table. Then we move into the family room and watch the news, a cooking show, or the latest show on Netflix. Instead of finishing dinner and immediately clearing the table, the night sounds, the dim lights, and the comfort of being surrounded by the swaying walls and night sky invite you to just be.

We talk longer. We talk about things other than work. We laugh a bit more. We simply don't rush.

Questions to Ask Yourself (or Your Child)

I have been an interfaith Mom for 24 years. The time has come when both of my 21+ year old children have been dating wonderful young people who are not Jewish. Does this surprise my husband and me? No. Does it concern me? Not really. Personally, I just want them to think about what it means should the day arrive when they decide to make their relationship a lifelong commitment, one that very well could include children. My biggest concern is that they don't think about it at all. I tried to make it look easy. I tried to have them not witness the sadness that sometime overtook me. I tried to make them feel like our life was just like any other family. I think I succeeded. As a result, it made me wonder if they might be thinking, "Well, Mom and Dad did it. Of course, we can." So, one day, I began to dictate questions into my phone - questions I think should be pondered by every young person seriously dating a person of a different faith. Some parents may even think that Jews of different branches or Christians of different branches should also consider some of these questions.

For the record, we asked our son first. He's the younger one, and he had no idea the questions were coming. Without us knowing, he asked his girlfriend of 9 months (at the time). We don't know her responses. Then we asked our daughter, also without warning. We asked her to let us ask her boyfriend of nearly three years. We asked him with her present. All of them played along, and none of them seemed offended.

Although my husband would say differently, I don't think any of these questions have a wrong answer. My goal is just to make sure that they have an answer. And, hopefully, they will encourage a conversation or two. 

I would really enjoy reading your responses to the questions in the comment selection below - or on Facebook.

1. What is the purpose of religion?

2. What does it mean to raise a child in both religions?

3. What does it meant to raise a child with no religion and let them choose?

4. If you choose to raise a child in the religion of your spouse, what are the implications for you?

5. Are there beliefs, dogma, or theology in the other person's religion that conflict with what you believe? 

6. If the answer to the question above is yes, how would you feel if your child believed that? Or if they came home from church/synagogue/religious school talking about it?

7. While growing up, if someone asked me, "What are you?" I'd say Italian and German. I wouldn't say Catholic. Some religions, Judaism as example, are considered a "culture." What does that mean?

8. If you choose to raise your children in your spouse's religion, will you still celebrate your own holidays? If so, will you celebrate them in your home? What will that look like? Or will you celebrate them with your extended family?

9. If you choose to raise your children in your religion, how will your spouse feel when you take your children to services or Mass?

10. If you choose to raise your children in your religion, how will you feel if your spouse takes your children to their religious services or Mass?

11. If you choose to raise your children in your religion, what are your expectations for your spouse? Will you go to Mass or services as a family? Will they participate in religious school?

12. If you choose to raise your children in your spouse's religion, what are your expectations for yourself? Will you go to Mass or services as a family? Will you participate in religious school?

Passover for the win!

We had a wonderful Passover this year! It actually felt like a holiday because both of our children were home, and they each brought a guest - their girlfriend and boyfriend. My son asked about the holiday about a month ago and was disappointed that, once again in the time of COVID, the family would not be gathering together for our traditional Seder. He asked if he could still come home from college to be with us. Normally, it would be a resounding, "Yes, of course!" This year had the need for logistics. Could he get tested? Would he quarantine? He did both, and so did his girlfriend. Clearly, he wanted to be home for the holiday. So did his sister's boyfriend. In fact, her boyfriend was the one who insisted on the quarantine. That's a smart bunch of young people.

The regulars all joined us for the Zoom Seder, and, like last year, we  had some join us from far and wide who don't usually get to celebrate with us. We did a full service with all of the ritual. Everyone sang. Everyone read several parts. It was real. As I looked around the Zoom screen, I realized that we were about 2/3 Jews and 1/3 gentiles. We had two gentiles with us. Our nephew has a gentile girlfriend and was joined by their Jew-ish friend who has Jewish roots in Argentina. Another extended family member is married to a gentile. I guess we were trendsetters. 

This weekend, our kids are celebrating Easter with the boyfriend and girlfriend. There was no question; it makes sense. We haven't done anything for Easter for years. In fact, when I last struggled with whether or not I should make an Easter basket, my son said, "Mom, we're Jewish. It doesn't matter." The goyim (I hope they understand that I am one as well) joined us to celebrate; I'm glad that our children will get a chance to celebrate with them. 

It all works out; it really does.

I Count the Weeks by Shabbat Candles

The last time we went out to dinner was the Friday of St. Patrick's Day weekend, 2020. 

On the following Friday night, the first one in quarantine, we lit the Shabbat candles, said the blessings over the candles, wine, and challah and enjoyed the fact that all four of us were at home together for Shabbat.

You use 2 candles per Shabbat, and we don't typically eat at home on Friday nights. So, typically, a box of candles can last us for months. Well, after a couple of 2020 Friday nights, our box of candles was empty.

So, I sent my daughter off to pick up Shabbat candles at the grocery store. She came back with a box of 72! 

"That's all they had, Mom!"

"Oh my," I exclaimed, "it will take us years to use 72 candles!"

About a month ago, we ran out of candles. We had spent 72/2 Shabbats together as a family (sometimes missing one child at college). That's 36 Friday night dinners together. And that doesn't count the first box or the box we are on on now.

It was appropriate that the night we ran out of candles was the same night we were having a Zoom dinner with one of the Interfaith couples (Iffers) who we've known - forever!

When I bought the current box of 12, I whispered a prayer that I wouldn't need a giant box again. But, honestly, it wouldn't be so bad to stop everything, eat a quiet family meal together with our grown children, and be in the moment - another 36 times. 

I still want to say goodbye to this pandemic.

Shabbat Shalom.

No Christmas for Me this Year

The painful reality has set in. There will be no Christmas for me this year.

Christmas is a holiday celebrated at home - with beautiful lights, garland, and tinsel. There's a sparkling, ornament-covered tree in the corner and stocking hanging by the chimney with care.

Many years ago, we decided that Christmas would be low key at our house. We'd decorate with snowmen and stockings, but no tree. We'd enjoy celebrating in the warm embrace of my large extended family.

For 27 years, we welcomed Christmas week with a holiday party and invited 200 friends and family to join us to celebrate the season. The invitations would have gone out just after Thanksgiving. This week, I should have been cleaning the house from top to bottom. COVID cancelled the holiday party.

For probably 18 or so years, Christmas Eve has been spent at my niece's family's house. The kids have enjoyed tracking Santa with their cousins. The opening of gifts by the little ones morphed into a white elephant gift exchange once they all got into their late teens. COVID cancelled the Christmas Eve gathering.

When my parents were alive, we visited them on Christmas Day. My children even helped decorate. Well, my parent's house has been closed up for 9 years now. (That doesn't seem possible.)

For years now, Christmas Day has been laid back with brunch or dinner at my niece and nephew's house. COVID cancelled Christmas Day visits.

Even after 23 years, this time of year is hard. I wonder if it will be easier this year. Or harder? All I know is that there will be no Christmas for me this year. This year will be just another day - watching from afar on Facebook and Instagram. Although most indoor and outdoor Christmas celebrations are cancelled, Santa will still visit. Immediate families will still gather around the tree for gift giving and share traditional family meals. I look forward to your pictures...at least I think I do.

I don't share these thoughts because I want sympathy. I just want to raise awareness that this year may be harder than usual for those who usually only get to truly celebrate Christmas by joining their families in their homes and don't celebrate it in their own homes. Yet another side effect of this pandemic.

Past Christmas-related posts

• Christmas from my Eyes
• December Reflections from an Interfaith Mom
• Can my Child Skip Religious School to Get a Tree?
• Merry Chanukah! Happy Christmas!
• Christmas Minyan
• Shalom Christmas

When You Decide to Raise Children in a Different Religion

Last week, my 23 year old daughter said she'd like us to build a sukkah. We haven't built one since her freshman year of college. And, the only reason we built it that year was because she called and told us we had to!

So, she and I set to work on the building - a day late and on Shabbat! Hey, we're interfaith! It was a gorgeous Saturday - late morning, when we started. Autumn sounds, smells, and temperatures were in full swing. It was a beautiful way to spend a Fall day.

11:00AM: I took the component parts down from their storage area in the garage. She carried everything out to the yard.

12:00PM: The bottom perimeter was easy. The vertical poles were a cinch. Then, we started the roof poles.

1:30PM  All seemed good, right until a pole came crashing down inches from my head. 

2:00PM Maybe we should eat, she says. No, let's finish the roof, I say. That was followed by the hammer falling on my wrist because I was tired. One pole to go. We can do this. No, we can't. Nothing will budge to squeeze the final pole into place. 

3:00PM That's when we asked my husband, her father, for help. He explained the problem (along with the shoulda's, coulda's, and woulda's), gave the solution (including starting the roof over again), and then walked away. My blood pressure was rising.

Didn't he understand? She probably doesn't even realize it. Her Catholic boyfriend is coming to visit during Sukkot. She wants to share this with him. It's one of our favorite holidays, not one all Jews celebrate. She wonders if she'll always have a Sukkah. She's dealing with the same issues we did 30 years ago. As my brother said, "Tell your husband, what goes around, comes around."

And why didn't my husband start the answer to our problem with, "Hey, thanks, Catholic mother who raised two Jewish children. Thanks for building a sukkah with our grown daughter. I built one every year for my entire childhood. And then every year for our children's childhood. I'm over it, but it's cool that you're not." Nope, he left the shiksa to build the sukkah and then told her what she did wrong.

Upon reflection, I realize that this happens in many Christian families too. One parent is all about Christmas decorations - the garland, the tree, the lights. The other one - not so much. And, yes, my brain knows that. However, my heart - even after 23 years of being an interfaith mom - still says, "REALLY? REALLY? I'm the one building this thing? This was definitely not part of the deal when I told you that I thought we should raise our kids Jewish. And that when I do things, I typically do them 110%." 

Oh, wait, I guess it probably was.

Take note those of you considering this journey...there are unintended consequences. When you decide to raise a child in a religion different than your own, you may be taking on the holidays on your own. You may be building a sukkah - or struggling with Christmas lights. How committed are you?

3:30PM Lunch

4:00PM Take down the roof and start over again.

5:00PM Nap

6:30PM Dinner in the sukkah.

We Are Family

Yes, this part of our lives is sad. It's tiring. It's overwhelming. And yet, it shows the power of family.

During this week, my husband's extended family came together to celebrate Passover. This night was different than any other night. We celebrated with family far and near. We celebrated from coast to coast and from North to South. We had family join us from the middle of the country and the middle of the state. Others joined us from the other side of town. It was wonderful. It was a Passover that will be remembered by all. And the amazing thing about it was that it was like every other Passover. My husband worked hard to make sure everyone had the experience. The only difference is that we weren't together physically, but we were together as family - remembering the journey from slavery to freedom.

And, then, my Catholic family came together - two Friday nights in a row. Some of us live within a few miles of each other, and we only see each other at Christmas and Father's Day. And yet, in this time when we are all struggling, we chose to be together. We talked. We laughed. We smiled. We shared the challenges. We celebrated the successes. The nurse, the teacher, the parents, the students - all coming together because we are family.

My Catholic family and my Jewish family are the same. We are family. We find solace in being together. We appreciate each other for who we are, and who we are not. While we talked tonight, on Good Friday, my husband was making Matzah lasagna, and my Italian family looked shocked by the possibility of substituting matzah for lasagna. We laughed. We smiled. We joined in celebration of family.