christmas was always complicated as a child. it began with my sister and me begging my Jewish father to let us bring in a real tree, a small tree. we had no inkling or knowledge of what a tree meant or of christ, we wanted the beauty of twinkling lights, colored fragile glass bulbs swaying, the icicles trembling and the answer was always no. I cant recall what or if we received presents for chanukah so in all fairness I'll say nothing on that, but my father did make a production of setting up our small bronze menorah with candles, until I got old enough to do it and he helped me with the bracha...which later turned out to be the same one for lighting shabbos candles, so his intention for us was there even if his knowledge was slightly lacking.
ever year sister and I were dressed up as was my mother, she hailed a taxi and we were driven out to Nutley, New Jersey to spend hours at her mother's home where her sister lived. I sat in the back seat the entire ride there thinking how to negotiate the war zone we were sure to enter on returning home the NYC and a drunk and enraged father. Once in Jersey we were all picked up late later for christmas dinner at one of her brother's homes. this was the time is really got bad for the Jews From New York. I had already been through an Inquisition in very broken english by my Roman Catholic Italian grandmother about baby Jesus and having failed exam that even with whispered answers from my mother, was told to sit in the dark living room no one ever sat in with its perfectly intact furniture covered in hard dried out plastic on the couch and chairs. Do not turn on the lamp please, its a waste of money. A seven year old sent to sit in a dark room because she flunked christmas 101. If the test were given today, I'd still flunk.
We usually piled into my uncles blue sedan and went to her beloved brother N.'s house with his Irish wife that no one liked-tight ass-she was titled. She relished the times I was left alone with her as everyone went to a late morning Mass because it gave her some strange pleasure to land some zingers. Told to give me toast and milk she would toast half an english muffin, put on margarine, peacch preserves and placing it in front of me asked if my Jewish father wasn't feeding me? When everyone came back she had canadian bacon, eggs, toast etc ready for them and announced I had already eaten so I could sit in the living room and wait for the presents to be opened.
This relative always had a floor to ceiling tree that filled 1/3 of their living room, red and gold balls, twinkling lights and no icicles but something called angel hair, a thin glass fluff with sparkles that was pulled from branch to brach as if 'angels' had shit snow or angel crap over all the limbs. My uncles kids were my age, all of us around 7-8-9 and I sat as each name was called out and gifts were handed in red paper with green cowboys or green paper with red bells and gold ribbons were passed around. My mother once passed out envelopes of cash to the other kids, assuming this was my father's money since that was her fount of wealth. So it was fun to ooh and ahh over everyone's pajamas, scarves, new catcher's mitt or bat, toy drum. Dinner was always a baked ham, yes, baked ham. I see living where I do now that pork must have been a traditional meal for Jesus or eaten at the last supper with matzah because every form of ham was on sale last week, you couldnt find a piece of chicken on sale no matter how I dug around in the case.
I had this brief encounter with myself during a complicated grief session where M. asked me to suddenly think if it were possible to change my life what would I imagine for myself. My stupid remark was to eat a meal of hazerai and integrate the two sides of my family within myself. But on further ruminations, I dont know why the hell on the earth I would ever want to integrate the half that so rejected us as kids, including my mother, the aunts that told us how our mother suffered and gave so much up to have us kids (that's all the details I got, who told her to marry the old Jewish man? Her twin brother borrowed thousands to open a restaurant from my father, her other brother borrowed money for business, she spent money on her nieces and nephews-my father was unwelcome in everyone's home, he was just the investor for whatever was needed.)
There are no relatives to be found to renew or begin a relationship with and I know all my father's side are deceased. If they had children I cant find any and Ancestry is not the help it purports to be for Jews, even with the Mormon archives.
Let the dead rest, I'll see them all soon enough. Better to finish things here in a neat way with no loose ends as my parents left us.
ever year sister and I were dressed up as was my mother, she hailed a taxi and we were driven out to Nutley, New Jersey to spend hours at her mother's home where her sister lived. I sat in the back seat the entire ride there thinking how to negotiate the war zone we were sure to enter on returning home the NYC and a drunk and enraged father. Once in Jersey we were all picked up late later for christmas dinner at one of her brother's homes. this was the time is really got bad for the Jews From New York. I had already been through an Inquisition in very broken english by my Roman Catholic Italian grandmother about baby Jesus and having failed exam that even with whispered answers from my mother, was told to sit in the dark living room no one ever sat in with its perfectly intact furniture covered in hard dried out plastic on the couch and chairs. Do not turn on the lamp please, its a waste of money. A seven year old sent to sit in a dark room because she flunked christmas 101. If the test were given today, I'd still flunk.
We usually piled into my uncles blue sedan and went to her beloved brother N.'s house with his Irish wife that no one liked-tight ass-she was titled. She relished the times I was left alone with her as everyone went to a late morning Mass because it gave her some strange pleasure to land some zingers. Told to give me toast and milk she would toast half an english muffin, put on margarine, peacch preserves and placing it in front of me asked if my Jewish father wasn't feeding me? When everyone came back she had canadian bacon, eggs, toast etc ready for them and announced I had already eaten so I could sit in the living room and wait for the presents to be opened.
This relative always had a floor to ceiling tree that filled 1/3 of their living room, red and gold balls, twinkling lights and no icicles but something called angel hair, a thin glass fluff with sparkles that was pulled from branch to brach as if 'angels' had shit snow or angel crap over all the limbs. My uncles kids were my age, all of us around 7-8-9 and I sat as each name was called out and gifts were handed in red paper with green cowboys or green paper with red bells and gold ribbons were passed around. My mother once passed out envelopes of cash to the other kids, assuming this was my father's money since that was her fount of wealth. So it was fun to ooh and ahh over everyone's pajamas, scarves, new catcher's mitt or bat, toy drum. Dinner was always a baked ham, yes, baked ham. I see living where I do now that pork must have been a traditional meal for Jesus or eaten at the last supper with matzah because every form of ham was on sale last week, you couldnt find a piece of chicken on sale no matter how I dug around in the case.
I had this brief encounter with myself during a complicated grief session where M. asked me to suddenly think if it were possible to change my life what would I imagine for myself. My stupid remark was to eat a meal of hazerai and integrate the two sides of my family within myself. But on further ruminations, I dont know why the hell on the earth I would ever want to integrate the half that so rejected us as kids, including my mother, the aunts that told us how our mother suffered and gave so much up to have us kids (that's all the details I got, who told her to marry the old Jewish man? Her twin brother borrowed thousands to open a restaurant from my father, her other brother borrowed money for business, she spent money on her nieces and nephews-my father was unwelcome in everyone's home, he was just the investor for whatever was needed.)
There are no relatives to be found to renew or begin a relationship with and I know all my father's side are deceased. If they had children I cant find any and Ancestry is not the help it purports to be for Jews, even with the Mormon archives.
Let the dead rest, I'll see them all soon enough. Better to finish things here in a neat way with no loose ends as my parents left us.
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