Finding Diana

An everyday woman's guide to figuring out what the hell happened to her life

 


Finding Diana
An everyday woman's guide to figuring out what the hell happened to her life


Bar Mitzvah Blowout

I have been remiss in writing for a good reason - My son's Bar Mitzvah.  It was modest by most standards, yet it required an intense amount of planning and preparation.  From daily 30 minute sessions of practicing to hammering out details such as the menu of the meal, it is time consuming.


Usually I am cynical about many lifecycle events.  Hard to believe, no? It is hard to go to your friend's children's birthday parties and feign interest in their unique finger painting artistry.  It is hard to watch someone get married when you know it won't last.  It is hard to go to a funeral to say goodbye when you are not ready to do so.

But the Bar Mitzvah had special meaning, if not to my son, then to me.  It was unbelievable to watch him accomplish this herculean task.  After all, to my non-Jewish friends out there - it must seem ridiculous to explain that I expect a 13 year old boy to spend six months or more learning to read the bible in it's orginial form before a large group of people.  Further, he is supposed to be happy about this.  Even odder, his parents create a sometimes circus-like atmosphere to celebrate this.  Then all further biblical education suddenly ceases. 

It is a little different for my son.  We had a modest breakfast after the Bar Mitzvah.  My whole family (minus a sister-in-law whose child care ran screaming from her house) came together.  We are generally a fun bunch.  We get along and share the passion of eating.  Constantly eating.  Eating any and everything that we can.  Then we discuss eating and drink while we are having this discussion.  All that talking and drinking makes us hungry.... I digress (and just had a snack).  The great part was having everyone come in from all over the country just to show their love and support to me, my husband and kids.  I really felt the love (and felt like eating).

I thought about what it must sound like to other people. "Boss, I'm going to need a day off so I can fly across the country to hear my nephew chant Hebrew old testiment for an hour.  Then I will eat a lot and turn around and fly home."

Of course, as a supervisor myself, I have heard stranger things. 

All in all, the blowout was the demonstration of my friends and family who came together to make us all feel loved.  I know it sounds cheesy, but it's true. (umm...cheese)

Now that two of my four have been Bar/Bat Mitzvahed, I can see ahead to high school graduation.  I'm already planning the menu.

 

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