Tonight, in keeping with the tradition of Jews everywhere, I participated in my 45 annual Seder season. Once again we enjoyed the order (seder in Hebrew) of the holiday meal, a carefully scripted event designed to welcome spring, retell the tale of the Exodus from Egypt, sing a few familiar tunes, thank G-d for our redemption and all in all have a great time. Still there was a bit of melancholy, we had a the meal at a dear friends house, friends who have been hosting the same gang for Passover every year for the last 10 years or so. Since the kids were small basically. Now we’re at the point we were realized that next year, three of the kids will possibly be gone next year. My kid will for sure, I don’t see him driving 12 hours home in the middle of his term to come home, but you never know.
I sort of feel like my kids are missing something with our fun engaging Seders. In my day we went to Uncle Leon’s, gathered around the holiday table, cracked open the all Hebrew Haggada and proceeded to be board to death for an hour and half while Uncle L chanted away and the rest of us hung out waiting to eat.
The other option was to go to one of my parents friends where we’d read the famous, and dreadfully dull, Maxwell House Coffee Haggada you could get from the grocery store with your matzah and chicken.
So, as we are commanded, in every generation we’re to re tell the story of our redemption from slavery. L’dor v’dor.