The Story of Our Lives

My Dad recently asked me the question, “How much do you know about your grandparents?”  I thought for a few minutes and answered honestly, “Some.”  My Dad sighed and responded, “There are some stories that I am the only one that knows them.”  This exchange made me think – how much do my children know about their grandparents?  How about my grandparents?  Oddly enough…about their own parents’ stories from before they were born?

I had the unique opportunity to know my four grandparents.  That ended at the age of fifteen, when I lost both of my grandmothers within a year.  I do have memories of them and remember some of the stories from their lives.  I remember a few more stories as told by my maternal grandmother, as it seemed she was also still finding family members.  My maternal grandfather had a bad stroke shortly after she died and remained homebound and needed help the remainder of his life.  He was a good storyteller and came from a large colorful family.  But once he was sick, his speech also suffered.  My paternal grandfather, the only grandparent Debbie met, died just after Rebecca was born, which meant that I had the opportunity to have an adult relationship with him.  Naturally, as of today, I know most about his growing up poor in Europe, moving to America in 1920, his many jobs and his life in general (he lived the American dream). 

Most of what my children know of my grandparents comes from me.  As with most oral histories, the actual stories begin to get diluted, some of the holes in the stories get replaced (sometime consciously, sometimes not) and stories transform into legendary tales or family folklore.  All of us grow up hearing them and we all try to pass our favorite stories on.  In my house, some of the legendary tales my brothers and I always laughed at are greeted with blank stares from my girls followed by the question, “Why would you know that?”  And generally speaking, the stories about myself, while told in all seriousness, cause them to laugh at me, and keep getting recycled (always at my expense).  For example, I shared that my parents taught us how to dance for my Bar Mitzvah, specifically the Waltz.  That has given them hours of endless laughter, wondering who else in the world Waltzes in the basement and why is it that the only goofball that did so was their father (my brothers conveniently do not remember this).

I realized that the stories, however they remember them, are the stories that they will carry with them and become the tales that they will tell.  I remember my grandfather relating a scary story from the mid-1920’s.  He and a few friends were out driving in a car when the car got slammed into on the side by another car.  At that point in time, the cars were not made heavy duty like today and split in half, the front going in one direction and the back going in another.  As they got out of the car, the drivers of the other car were gangsters of some sort and the threat they gave buried any further action.  To this day, I only have the image of the car breaking in half and going in two different directions like a cartoon and I am laughing while typing.  I asked my dad to fill in the blanks.  He remembered the friend’s name (Sam Katz), he laughed and was fuzzy on the rest of the story.

These are the stories of my life; I am sure my girls will pass on the stories that made them laugh, taught them a lesson or inspired them. 

Gratitude Edition

Thanksgiving.  A time to be thankful.  A time to show gratitude.  A time of festive indulgence.  This is the one time of the year when we are supposed to get together, enjoy a hearty meal, watch football and get that head start on holiday shopping.  This is a national day where we are supposed to be thankful and show off our attitude of gratitude; even to the point where you might go around the dining room table broadcasting to the world what you are thankful for.

As a kid, I remember learning about the Pilgrims during this time of year. They strode forth for religious reasons, braved their way across the immensely large body of water known as the Atlantic Ocean, and lived in an unknown world inhabited by unknown people.  This hazardous journey was made by a people with conviction, commitment and cooperation who forged together for a common goal.  The celebratory meal, which is represented as our Thanksgiving meal, gives celebration to man’s endeavors to survive at all costs and ultimately to populating and becoming the great nation we live in.  I remember making buckles for our shoes, little hats for our heads and drawing hand-outlined turkeys.  It was a rich opportunity to relive a critical time in our history.

Thanksgiving is the midpoint and the evening where frantic shoppers hit the stores in search of good deals so that they can get a huge jump on their holiday gift gathering.  We all know in advance who will be having the sales and the hours stores will be open for.  In an age where online shopping is becoming the preferred way to shop, Thanksgiving is a day to be thankful that the stores and malls still exist, because that is where the deals are!  Hate to eat and run…oh, and make sure the alarm is set extra early to continue the frantic search for that special item Friday morning!

Sorry, I am not shopping.  I look forward to waking up Friday morning without setting the alarm.  Spend a little time thinking about how special the day is, what it represents and how a small band of people came to this country, a country that represents the ideals of freedom, to make a new life for themselves.  Then I will be thankful for being blessed to have my family, to spend time together, to relax and to enjoy their company.  While we should not need one day set aside to be grateful (we should be grateful every day), we should not squander that opportunity.  And then off to my brothers for the annual, the traditional Thanksgiving meal, some seasonal beverages and being thankful for the day.

Passover Thoughts

“Mah Nishtana halilah ha-zeh? (מה נשתנה הלילה הזה)” is the opening to one of the first things we recite at Passover.  This is the phrase that asks the question, “Why is this night different” and sets out the tone and reason for celebrating the Passover Seder.  This is generally recited by the youngest person in the room, as it is the children that should ask the questions and the adults that recount the story towards becoming the Jewish People.  I remember those many long years ago when it was my turn to recite the questions and my father working with me to help me memorize the words and melody.  This is a tradition that has been passed down from generation to generation.  Even this year, as the “Mah Nishtana” came up, my nephew declared himself the youngest and went right into it.  As we age, these words seem to take on different meanings and each year, new family memories are made.

Even now, as an adult, I have great memories of Passover Seders long gone.  This year, my first cousin spent Passover with my father in Florida.  I remember being at my Grandfathers house with her and her brothers and the entire Zeiler clan (classic family patriarch running the Seder), and sitting at the end of the table being goofy, imitating our favorite cartoon characters and laughing.  Sometimes, my brothers and I would pull together some schtick.  I remember singing “Do You Love Me?” from Fiddler on the Roof, where I was singing the Goldie part and my brother did Tevye.  Then there was the time at my other grandparent’s house, in front of the entire family we did the Cheech and Chong routine “Cheborneck.”  This classic bit, if you have not heard before, is worth a listen.  By the time we finished, the elderly folk at the table had to pick their jaws up from the table.  We always finished the Haggadah (the book used during the Seder), but always managed to have lots of fun.

This year, when I looked up at our Seder (which I lead), as always, it is great to have new people experience our version of this tradition.  Done correctly, it is an event to remember and any first timers to a Seder, will never experience it again.  This year, most importantly, after a hectic year, with everyone in our family seemingly running all over the place, my traveling to Michigan and prepping for the holiday, it was great to have our family all in one room.  We prepared for the holiday as a family, we each add our own goofiness to the Seder and, best thing of all, we do it together as a family.  I know I have reflected on this in the past, but it is true that family time all together like this starts to be less frequent as the girls grow up.  I know, it is inevitable that they will “grow up”, move out and one day have their own families.  NO RUSH!  As long, as we continue to get together as a family for events like this, all is good.  This is where the memories that we carry with us come from and we hope to continue to make new ones for generations to come.