Holidays + COVID-19 = Big Feelings
Pesach begins on Wednesday night. I am not feeling it this year. I was making the soup stock for the matzo ball soup a few weeks ago, and it felt like playing violin on the deck of the Titanic. What is the point in continuing to take part in certain rituals when the rest of them—especially ones that mean a lot to me like seeing my parents—are null and void?
Yet here I am, spending the weekend engaged in Pesach cleaning. I’m not doing a complete flip of the house (where you get rid of all non-Pesach food) because there is zero chance I’ll be able to get another box of pasta again in the near future. But I’m doing the cleaning the best I can. Making the meal. Telling Linus that he can’t have the parsley until the end of the second seder.
I feel like I have such a tenuous connection to the old normal. Skipping a holiday means snipping another thread.
I think many will understand this, even if you’re not Jewish. It’s hard to NOT celebrate a holiday, even if celebrating the holiday is hard. I imagine that it is hard to skip Christmas or even change Christmas if you’ve built traditions over the years. Even if celebrating Christmas is equally hard.
I think it will be okay. It will be different and a little sad and I’ll probably end up crying at the seder table. But… that’s just Pesach 2020. Next year will be better.
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I so get you. Here in Portugal Easter is as important as Christmas, families come together to celebrate and this year I will spend it on my own, but we are already arranging with my family to have a virtual meeting and cooking a special meal each in our own home.
No way we are going to let this situation beat us!
I hear a lot of that both from the Easter families and the Passover families. The more so as this is a time when we *want* to be with our communities more than ever. We have communities for the purpose of bonding especially in times of crisis. So to be told, well, we’re in crisis but to help prevent crisis; you have to separate from the community.
In our lifetimes that’s a thing we’ve never been told. From birth we’ve been told that the people who are there for us in crisis is our family and our community and to be cut off from threat, it feels, l’havdil; like being cut off from G-d.
But. G-d gives us the power for this too. I’ve been trying not to say this to people but; reducing it down to its lowest terms. On the first Passover; the Jewish people huddled alone in their houses eating their meals; scared and afraid to leave their homes. How many times have we said; you should feel as if you’re personally going out from Egypt. And how many times have we had the opportunity to feel that in a real and revealed way like we can this year. Scared, alone in our homes with no idea what will come tomorrow.
I think too of the crypto jews in their basement with their wine and their matza. Maybe they didn’t have matza for Seder; maybe they couldn’t make it until the second half of Passover so no one would suspect. Scared and alone in their basements clinging to the half remembered religion of their ancestors.
It’s said that when Rabbi Akiva was being tortured and sentenced, he smiled. Because all his life he’d never had the opportunity to love G-d with all his soul. Now in the physical face adversity; he was able to stand up and say the Shema with the truest Kavana.
I know everything is different now. And everything is harder. This year we are truly slaves. Next year, in Jerusalem, may we all be free.
We sort of went through this when my dad died. He did about nothing in holiday preparations, but his presence was absolutely vital. When he was gone…nobody was feeling it. Sure, we tried to carry on traditions, but it all fell apart slowly as more family members died off. We won’t be doing anything different this year for Easter than we have in previous years. My sisters won’t be going to church, but they’ll probably still make dinner and have fun with immediate family.
I’m sorry you will miss out on your traditions this year. It’s disappointing and depressing and unfortunately necessary. Here’s hoping next year will be back to normal…in all kinds of ways beyond holiday celebrations.
This year is tough. Easter is always a big family gathering on both sides for us. This year it’s us at home, FaceTiming our families. We will still make brunch, but it won’t be the same. I’ll still make some form of a nice dinner, but it’s not the same. Next year will be better. Even after we can go places, it will be better. We will be able to have the family dinners we missed, even if it’s not the same.
It’s so hard. I made haroset and a dessert today (usually I make 3-4 for our 20+ person Seder) and I’m trying to keep normal for my kids but to be a mile from my family and having to have a virtual Seder just sucks.
I’ve been thinking of you as I hear about Passover and Easter. I was also wondering what this would be like for Christians if it had happened during December, the time of ritual, of gathering, of tradition.
Abiding with you this week; may thoughts of a more normal Pesach in 2021 carry you through.
I can imagine what it must be like for you. I’m even sad thinking that I won’t have Easter Eggs for Easter (though I am going to attempt to make my own Hot Cross Buns), and of course we won’t get to have a meal with my father-in-law (which we would always do). Easter doesn’t have much other significance for me, but it will still be different this year.
I also have to say I can’t imagine ever doing a Pesach-style cleaning – getting rid of ALL other food in the house? Good grief, I’d never cope. (Though the clean-out would be good for me – I’ve always stored way more pantry food, herbs and spices than I’ve ever needed).