Breaking Matzah

I was raised by a former Mormon, turned Presbyterian, turned Episcopalian, who decided somewhere along the line that she and my Catholic born father would raise me as a Congregational Christian - are you keeping up?

I was baptized by two Jewish Rabbi's in a mixed ceremony, on the side of Mt. Tam overlooking the wooded hillsides of Mill Valley. It was the 70's. You're probably catching on now!

We lived in Bolinas, a hippie enclave that was teaming with children. We stripped our shoes when the school bell rang and ran barefoot over calloused heels down the road to the beach, or John's Store for a Popsicle, or to one of my best friends houses.  Marina lived nearest the water and her Dad was often at work.

Life was simpler then.

Today Marina is a doctor/researcher working on a vaccine for H.I.V., I am a mother and a writer, our parents are living far away (her Father is traveling the world by foot), and Bolinas is much the same.  We don't identify with each other as anything but barefoot kids from Beach.

Marina is Jewish, raised with a Catholic Mother. I think we may have connected over our convoluted pasts in this way.

Today Marina is hosting her own first night of Passover at her house in San Francisco.  A girl, who never made much  of that part of our lives, has found this small spark of something... Is it religious? Is it maternal? Is it a connection to her roots, her fathers roots, some roots - period? I don't know for sure. Whatever it is, it is beautiful. For at least one night, our grown-up lives are slowing down and the past is engulfing us with rituals that comfort.

Marina jokes with me - a kind of relief on a major religious level. "Onward Christian Soldier" she would say. Perhaps this was to identify with her mother. But for all the protestant mayhem in my life, I distinctly remember celebrating Passover - every year - as a child. At the Feld's I remember Bonnie telling us the ancient stories, and passing the Seder plate from person to person.  I remember a feast in San Rafael with so many fun games for us kids. I remember my first tastes of horseradish. I remember Matzah fondly, like it was part of my own traditions.  I remember the story of the Jews escape from Egypt, we all should, it is part of our history.

So tonight my small son will come along with us to celebrate a holiday he has not yet witnessed. His "first." We will listen as my young barefoot friend tells the stories and passes the wine, and we will celebrate that people are free, and that there are many still waiting for freedom to come.

Banana Pops - borrowed from Passover.org

6 bananas
1 1/2 cups crushed nuts
12 sticks or plastic spoons

Roll 1/2 banana in crushed nuts. Place stick or end of spoon through center. Wrap in tin foil and freeze. Serves 12.

The Kids will love it!

Comments

[Suzanne]

A wonderful post, Mel. I loved the religious "trail". Very Bolinas-like! This is a keeper.

[Frances]

Beautiful memoir, Mel, I think this is one of your fines posts!

[Frances]

Beautiful memoir, Mel, I think this is one of your fines posts!