It happens every year like clockwork. Passover, Easter. This time they seemed to come around sooner. I was sitting on a chair near the hot-dog vendor at the local promenade, talking politics with a group of older men who gather there, when I noticed the big bunny waving at me. You know, the six-foot person in an Easter bunny costume who poses for pictures with children. I was shocked when I saw the bunny coming because I had lost track of time, certain I had just seen it a few months ago. It seems the earth is spinning much faster and my life had just been speeded up!
It’s always difficult to decide what to do for the holidays. One year is different from the next—especially as a mother of kids who are grown and living in different cities. The bunny prompted me to stop and think.
Over the years friends of different religions have invited me to join their families for Easter and/or Passover. It’s nice to be thought of this way, but sometimes it’s hard to plan because I never know what my kids will want to do until they tell me, and their decisions are usually at the last minute. Their father–my ex-husband–and I have a very good relationship, and I like it when he joins us as a family, but even he decides at the last minute because he lives a few hours away and has an exhausting schedule. Therefore, I never quite know what to say when I receive an invitation for holiday dinners because I’m waiting for my kids to respond. It was no different this year, except that there was another consideration: POTUS. It was the elephant in the room.
Whether my friends love or hate POTUS had never been an issue in deciding whether to attend Passover or Easter festivities. Now, there is so much emotion surrounding the issue that friendships are actually coming to an end over it. This year I was invited to the home of a close friend whose political feelings are sharply different from mine. Months earlier, when I was at her home for dinner, she had announced to all the guests at the table that I am on “the other side.” I am not angry at her for being on “the other side” from where I sit! I was hoping that if I attended her holiday dinner she would not do that to me again. What’s wrong with everyone having an opinion or voice? After all, shouldn’t we all be on the same side—the side of friendship and country? It turned out I had to decline her invitation for another reason.
I was also invited to a holiday dinner by great friends who are in the same “camp” with me. I would have loved to attend, but not because they are in my camp. They are ultra-smart, fun people—and amazing cooks. The husband, who is one of the best doctors on the planet, is also one of the best cooks. He creates incredible healthy recipes. He can take a recipe that is full of fat and inferior ingredients and replace them with clean ingredients, while making it even more delicious! He’s the type of chef whose dinners you don’t want to miss.
As it turned out, my kids and their dad would come to me for the holidays and we would have a little family time. Except for one thing: I was not going to make the dinner. We decided to go to the local community gathering, attended by about fifty people of different religions and cultures. There is nothing like being with family and best friends over holidays to make it more meaningful and wonderful. And I’ve missed that. But in life we have to make compromises, especially in single life with kids. We had a good time, but in a different way. The people were all friendly, and the host said some meaningful and interesting words. My kids enjoyed it, and that’s what counts most for me at this time of life.
I did get to enjoy the holiday in one very traditional way. The following day I got a call from my friend who is married to the doctor/chef. She said she wanted to bring me some of her husband’s lokshen and mushroom kugels. I gladly accepted. Along with the kugels she brought an incredibly delicious, tender beef dish, with side dishes made from scratch—all left over from the holiday dinner I had missed the night before. It was an unexpected treat, and besides that, it was a sign of an enduring friendship that goes beyond politics—the old-fashioned way.
Happy Times,
Sherry Plum
My readers will be happy to know that the doctor’s kugels were the best I’ve ever had, and he is pleased to have me share those recipes with you. Happy belated holidays, no matter what your special holiday is and no matter who you voted for.
