Pesach is almost here. It is a holiday that has a lot of meaning for me. It is filled with memories of friends and family, some who are no longer with us and some who are. It is a time for cleaning the house and taking stock of where things are at.
I can remember my great-grandather reading from the Haggadah and discussing the bitter herbs, only he always pronounced the h so it would sound like he was talking about my cousins, who were conveniently named Herb.
I remember my great-grandmother telling my sister and I that she was shikkered (drunk) when we knew that she was drinking grape juice. I can remember seders that lasted for what felt like weeks and the seders that grew shorter as my grandparents grew older.
Now there is a new generation at the table. I wonder what memories they will come to have.
Chag sameach to you all.
"When you're in jail, a good friend will be trying to bail you out. A best friend will be in the cell next to you saying, 'Damn, that was fun'." — Groucho Marx
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