Rush-Hashanah

The Jewish High Holidays sneak up on me every year. 

I came back from visiting my mother in New York on Labor Day weekend. It was 110 degrees and smoky when I landed in Santa Rosa. I realized the holidays are happening in less than 3 weeks and I really ought to do something about it.  Get the cards out. Figure out logistics. Plan a menu. 

Rush-hashana has begun.  

Instead, I ate cold watermelon, unpacked and tried to catch up on the mail. 

The office roared back to life in September. The inbox that was almost normal was suddenly filled with unread messages and the desk soon covered with post-it notes. 

My closet became a mess. It was 44 degrees in the morning, 80 degrees in the afternoon but dips to 50 in the evening and I pulled out a few winter clothes. With summer and winter clothes all mixed together, it takes me half an hour to decide what to wear every morning. Too many choices. None of them work. I have nothing to wear. 

Hobbies that were on summer break are starting up again. If I don’t show up, they’ll think I dropped out. I don’t want to be a flake. I leave the pile of New Year’s cards untouched. I go to the hobbies. 

Garden work must happen before it’s too late. I spent a lot of time last weekend tending my bed at the community garden. I picked the last of my cherry tomatoes. There were tons of tiny ones left. It took hours and I had a lot of time to think. 

I thought about how it was less than 2 months ago that I wrote Cheery Note #1 to a friend who was starting chemo. Alone in her “healing cocoon” on the east coast, the only way I could think of helping her was to write a weekly cheery note with some light news as a distraction. In Cheery Note #2 I described what I had just planted and how the first tomatoes were doing. The Cheery Note series became this blog. Cheery Note #6 was the last one she would read.

As I worked, there was the sadness of losing a friend who died too young. I also reflected on the loss of Erwin, an elderly cousin in Australia who was my father's closest friend growing up and he made a big impression on me when he came to visit back in the 1960's. There was the satisfaction of growing tasty tomatoes, sharing them with my neighbors and learning how to preserve them to enjoy this winter. There was wistfulness that I was tearing out all the vines.There was anticipation and excitement of turning the soil and planting the winter vegetables. 

This season, barely begun, has already brought many changes. 

Greg and I affiliated at a local synagogue. We’re looking forward to making new friends in this community. 

Liane came home. Her plans and adventures took a different course than she had hoped. 

Shani and Lex got married in a civil ceremony in Oakland. We had a small celebration and ate a delicious wedding cake that you’d never guess was vegan. 

The Rush-Hashanah cards, calls and emails never got done. 

But we sang Avinu Malkainu with our new congregation. We threw our sins and bread crumbs into the lake at Howarth Park. We ate matzo balls, apples and maple syrup (I forgot to get honey) and lots of tomatoes. I got the brussels sprouts, chard and kohlrabi seedlings into the bed. 

I remembered a friend and a cousin who both had a twinkle in their eye. And I became a mother-in-law. 

May you be inscribed in the Book of Life.  Happy 5778!