When I was a wee one I used to talk about Chanukah Claus which scandalized all the nice Jewish ladies in the neighborhood but Nana thought it was funny and that's all that mattered to me. Nana would have loved cooking all sorts of Russian delights along with a turkey.
I am thankful for Hope and Athena. Hope loves 'Sophia The First' and enjoys dressing like her. The Christmas Elf made her appearance that morning.
When Hope was an infant my favorite thing was her crooked smile. With Athena it is her endless look of surprise. Sometimes her mouth forms a perfect O and sometimes her eyes get really big. Sometimes, if you're lucky, you get both.
We call this photo 'Jeffrey in a Tutu' - she looks so much like her Dad.
Happy Chanukah my friends. Happy Thanksgiving too. You all hold a special place in my heart.
I posted my favorite colors of Fall over at The Photo Blog The rain and wind have pretty much cleared the trees now.
"it's so hard to just be a person, a good person" my Nana would tell me, "don't make it too complicated, just keep an open heart". Yesterday was my birthday and I was in a mood. The mood of all moods. Too many things up in the air; money issues, family drama, worry and stress. I was determined to be grateful and open hearted. I fed the birds and squirrels. It was a cloudy and misty morning and I love that. Sunny days are so freakin' perky. I brought coffee and doughnuts to "the old guys" at the marina. They were talking about Pearl Harbor and wars. "It's a sad day" one of them tells me. "It's my birthday" I respond without thinking, I had been hell bent on ignoring that fact. "It's your birthday!" he shouts out, a smile enhancing every beautiful line on his wonderful face. "Hey! you divas, it's the gal's birthday". They all know my name but prefer to call me gal, girlie, sweetie, sweetheart, and so on, Oh yeah, and kid. "It's the kid's birthday?" another repeats, "well that calls for the silver flask". We all had spiked coffee and sang bits and pieces of old songs while the gulls fled to open water. I got home and had a two hour fun talk with my baby brother. Right before we hung up he told me to check his Facebook. He wrote this : happy birthday to my big sister Dianne who took me in as a teenager when living with my father became unbearable. if not for her my life today would be different. we don't talk or see each other often but it doesn't change that fact. remember where you came from and how you got where you are today. no doubt someone helped you along the way. Like · · Promote · a few seconds ago near Brooklyn ·
Baby bro and his daughters
In the evening Hope gave me a brownie she made in 'Kindegarden Cafe' cooking class and we played with the Ballerina Barbie I gave her for the first night of Chanukah. She'll be in Brooklyn tonight so we celebrated early.
"I get a Chanukah present because your Nana is Jewish?" "Well sort of, you really get it just because I love you and my Nana would have loved you too" "That's a good reason"
I think of my Nana a lot during Chanukah, she loved the food and the music and she loved having people around her. Most of the people who celebrated Chanukah with her were not Jewish; Nana loved sharing traditions with everyone.
My Nana
My favorite part was lighting the menorah together. She would hold my hand and she'd whisper the 3 blessings to me and I would say them out loud.
This past Sunday I saw the Yeshiva Boys Choir perform on TV. I immediately fell in love with them; Nana would have adored them.
I would visit Nana every day. I can still picture the journey to Nana’s house – several long blocks, across the park through the hole in the fence and then cross the BIG street.
One day, right before Chanukah, I went with Nana to help her and the Rabbi’s wife decorate for the holiday. After many warnings to be careful what I touched and to watch my language Nana finally relaxed and laughed and did what she always did – grab my hand in hers and whisper – “you’re a good girl”.
I wandered around while the ladies polished and fussed and came upon a portrait of a very large man with a fluffy white beard. I believe he was the father of the founding rabbi. I ran back to the main room and arrived to announce – in my usual decibel defying voice …
“Jewish kids do have a Santa! I found his picture”
Out of the dead silence came Nana’s voice. “Yes Dianne, there IS a Chanukah Claus”.
The ladies laughed and vowed to tell the story at lunch. I guess I get my talent for defusing bombs from Nana.
I love ritual and ceremony. I adore theater and tradition.
So the lighting of The Menorah is one of my most favorite memories.When I was older I was allowed to light the Shamash candle – the candle that sits a bit higher than the others and is used to light each of the nightly candles. Nana would sometimes call me Shamash – meaning helper.
Nana had these wooden matches in a box that said kitchen matches. They had tiny spindly stick bodies with huge heads (much like the Olsen twins) and when you struck them across the box they would split and the head would fly off.
Nana: You’re going to burn the house down.
Me: The matches are no good. How old are these matches?
Nana: If you burn the house down I’ll kill you.
I never burned the house down.
Nana: Do you want to say the blessing?
Me: I never say it right.
Nana: laughing – yes - it is not - baruch and adenoids
Me: I wasn’t being a smart ass.
Nana: I know. I can always tell.
She slips her hand in mine. She is wearing the shawl I bought for her at the Christmas bazaar back at grammar school. It is hideous. She always wears it. I wear my mantilla on my head.
Nana: you don’t need to wear that.
Me: it makes me feel holy.
Nana: good enough reason.
She says the blessing without a single falter. In everyday conversation Nana speaks very quietly. Her English is not so good and her accent was often ridiculed by the ladies at the senior center. During the blessing her voice is - Full. Rich. Melodic.
Me: I love the way you sound
Nana: I am sure of the words.
Me: You should talk that way all the time. You talk to me that way.
Nana: I am sure of you.
After reading from her prayer book and watching the lights for an hour Nana worries that I have to walk home in the dark.
Me: No one will bother me.
Nana: You are a tough cookie.
Me: As tough as you.
Nana laughs. Nana loved to laugh …
In the spirit of Nana’s laughter and to welcome the start of Chanukah …
I give you …
May you always have light in your life and may your light burn longer than you ever expected.
