I am cleaning up after last night’s Yom Kippur break-the-fast. It might possibly have been our 36th such gathering. Our numbers are down from some years’ pinnacle of 30+. We are fewer now; there are those at the table now in heart and memory. One Yom Kippur tradition is to light memorial candles for relatives who have died in years passed.
Whenever I see a spent memorial candle, I think of Dora and Hy Enoch, Martin’s cousins who made it to America and rebuilt their lives out of the ashes of the Holocaust. They were sweet and gentle. They always embraced me with love and beautiful smiles. I remember one of our visits to them after they had moved from their home in Brooklyln to an apartment in Coney Island. Dora offered me some orange juice in a small glass. One of many in her cabinet. The small glass had begun its life holding memorial candle. Now it held juice. (The potential wordplay of juice/Jews doesn’t escape me.)
Something made me wash out and save this year’s glasses. I teetered. Is it macabre to use keep and re-use them? Then it occurred to me, this is what Jews do. It’s what Dora and Hy and thousands of Survivors like them did in the years after the war: recycled pain and mourning into affirmation. Jews choose life. Jews acknowledge death, keep alive the memories of loved ones in heart and in deed, and re-enter into life. What better use might there be for these little cups than to use them from time to time to celebrate Kiddush, the blessing over wine that concludes with an affirming Amen! and “To life!”
I love that interpretation!
I am so glad. Love to you and Verne. We’ve got to catch up soon!
J-E-W indeed. Good for you!
thank you, Paul.
Beautiful! Dora and Hy were two of the most loving people throughout my life. They helped raise me and just by being taught me everything about my Jewish heritage. I am so blessed to have had them by my side.
indeed, they were such loving people. I feel very lucky to have known them, and Helene, and Jack and Toby.
So moving, poignant. From the past few months–my Dad, my bro, my Mom–and then again Yom Kippur, yet again I have “those glasses.” In the past I’ve boiled out the leftover wax and cleaned them and use them–they’re not just great for juice and Kiddish wine, they’re also handy as cookie cutters. This summer I put some in my garden hoping they might keep some of the critters away from ravaging my garden. And now I’m moving and making decisions. The large ones for my Mom (2010) and my bro (2016) sat atop my hutch since they left this earth (or were interred in it). I decided they would be okay with my recycling, knowing I’ve kept (still keep) them in my heart. Categories: keep and move; toss; give away; try to sell. So which category fits those glasses filled with memories?
Anita, thank you for several reflections and sharing. Where are you moving?
maybe keep a couple. As the yard site comes around you know you will be recollecting. Everything goes smoothly with your move.
Lovely post sending kove and hugs
Such a beautiful sentiment, Debra! It feels like a gift to us all.
Thank you! שנה טובה
My pleasure!
I am so glad you enjoyed it, Elizabeth.
True, Jew.
And, thank you for a moving account of 2 apparently special people.
My pleasure, Elisha. They were truly such wonderful people.