Text & Image

Does this time of the year feel different than it normally does, or different than it should? If so, give some examples of what feels different.

This time of year feels completely different from years past. We are celebrating the Jewish New Year without friends and family. These are contemplative holidays for individuals, which are habitually celebrated together, in a room with more than 300 others. So while we reflect on our lives and how we can make the world a better place, we are used to being with at least some of the rest of the world. This year, as we start the fast for Yom Kippur, the day of both atone-ment and at-ONE-meant, we are not with others. We will have a simple meal at home, and then turn on a computer for Zoom. It won’t be the same. In years past, it has been a balancing act of serving enough food before the 25 hour fast, followed by a frantic drive to services. Yom Kippur is the most popular service of the year. Parking was always complicated! We would rush into the building to get good seats, hugging friends along the way. This year, there will be no driving. No rush hour traffic, and sadly, no hugs. It feels stingy to shop for such a small amount of food for such important holidays. Setting the table for only two seems too little. Cooking for two feels selfish. I’m used to preparing holiday meals for everyone. On top of the alone-ness of this usually social moment, this is the first year that we do not have my dad, who died just 6 weeks ago, with us. In fact, this the first year in our 47 years together that we do not have any parents. This photo shows two place settings, for just us, in our kitchen. Four memorial candles for remembering two mothers and two fathers whose earthly time has passed. at the ready. Apple and honey dish. A round, freshly baked, high-holiday challah rests under the blue and yellow cover. I remember the family rule of no TV for high holidays. Now zoom-on-TV will be the essential ingredient for connecting to the world. Is this year different? Entirely different. May it be a meaningful day of contemplation for those who wish to celebrate. May we have communal services, in person, with hugs—lots of hugs—in the near future.