Secrets of a Jewish Mother: Real Advice, Real Family, Real Love (29 page)

1.
Are family holidays a priority for you?

2.
Do you dread the holidays or look forward to them?

3.
What childhood customs, religious or otherwise, do you want to continue with your own family?

4.
What are your holiday traditions ?

5.
Have you told your family that these traditions are a priority for you?

This was a real discussion that occurred in our family. Thank God the worst scenario never came to pass, but the point of the conversation has become family folklore.

 

Jill and her first husband, Steven, had planned a vacation in Europe. They knew Steven’s grandfather was very sick, so the question was raised: If something were to happen to Steven’s grandfather while they were gone, what should they do, continue the vacation or come back for the funeral? Steven’s parents were adamant: Do not interrupt your vacation. You can mourn when you come home.

 

Mommy was adamant as well: Should Steven’s grandfather pass away, God forbid, Jill and Steven were to come home immediately. Mommy felt strongly that their duty was to be with their family, to comfort them during this time. Vacations are a second priority to grief.

 

Steven’s response to Jill was, “Let’s make a deal; if I don’t have to go to your grandparents’ funerals, you don’t have to come to mine.” As you may imagine, that went over really big with Mommy. Thank goodness nobody died while anybody was on vacation.

1.
Do you go out of your way to visit hospitals, attend funerals, wakes, etc?

2.
What do you expect people to do when you suffer a loss or are sick?

3.
Do you owe a visit,
shiva
call, sympathy note or get-well-soon card to anyone?

There aren’t many people who can say they lived during three centuries. Sol’s mother, our Grandma Helen, was born in 1899 and lived until April of 2005. Until the day she died, she ate with her own teeth, read the paper without glasses and did not spend one night, ever, in a nursing home. On her 106th birthday, Mayor Bloomberg issued a proclamation in her honor. After her husband, Ben, died, she used to say: What am I still doing here?” We told her that God intended for her to be here as an example to the next generation, to Jon, Ally and Joanna. And she was. What was her secret? God knows, it had to be the genes. Genes, and a diet that consisted of chicken and fresh vegetables every day of her life. Must it always come down to the matzoh ball soup? Apparently so.

I was engaged to Sol and went to Bonwit Teller to try on a wedding gown. It was made of heavy satin, simple and quite lovely. I tried it on and started to cry because I was so taken aback at how lovely I looked and felt. I came home and told my mother. She told me she would not pay for a new dress and I would have to wear my cousin’s dress, made of chiffon for her May wedding. We were getting married in December; this dress was the wrong style, the wrong fabric and not especially flattering on me. I know money was tight but I believe that if she had liked Sol she would have bought me my own wedding dress. I wore the damn chiffon dress and never forgot or forgave.

Weddings cause more problems and more long-term grudges than any other single function in life. My parents didn’t speak to Sol’s parents for ten years as a result of our wedding. The details are not important—it’s all crap. I begged Sol to elope, but he would not do it. So instead, I got married in a dress in December that I resented wearing. My mother did not allow me to invite my friends to the dinner, only for cocktails. When Lisa got married, I begged her to take $25,000, which was the cost of a beautiful wedding then, and just walk away. She wouldn’t do it. I worked really hard to make sure Lisa wouldn’t suffer the same regrets I did. Luckily, that wedding turned out okay.■

I can think of quite a few stories about grudges in our family that started when someone wore the wrong dress, or gave a really cheap gift, or decided to cancel at the last minute, or didn’t show up altogether, but the problem is that if I give you the details, then the ugliness starts all over again. So you know what? Here’s a story about how I unwittingly hurt one of my dearest friends, instead.

When Joanna’s Bat Mitzvah came, I made my list and decided not to invite a very close friend from law school with whom I had lost touch. I figured she didn’t know Joanna anyway, I hadn’t seen her in a long time, blah blah blah. Recently, I had dreams about her and called her up, because it had been so long and I missed her. We talked, and she told me that she realized the Bat Mitzvah had come and gone and said how much I had hurt her feelings by not inviting her to such an important simcha. She figured that since I had excluded her from such an important occasion, our friendship could never be repaired. I felt awful; I had made a terrible mistake. You can’t go back, you can only hope to be forgiven and move forward. Mommy is right. No matter what, these affairs end up causing hurt feelings. ■

Michele and I grew up together. We were always competitive. I went to college and she didn’t. She was very rich and I wasn’t. She had a hot body and I thought I was fat (it’s a family thing ... we always think we are fat). After college we stayed distant “friends” because I lived in Boston. When I got engaged to Steven, I didn’t want to invite Michele to the wedding. I thought she was jealous of me and wished me the dreaded “evil eye.” Was I crazy? Who knows? But I got married and did not invite her. I felt terribly guilty and had nightmares after the wedding. I finally called her so my nightmares would stop. It was hard, but I called and apologized. I was sorry. I couldn’t change the past, but I was determined to make an effort to be friends. Michele started dating someone special and we went out with them often. She got engaged. I was thrilled. When the invitations went out to her wedding, I did not receive one. Spite? Tit for tat? Michele got even; she hurt me back. We are not friends today.

For my second wedding, to Bobby, I had the smallest possible wedding. Only twenty-five members of our immediate families attended. We held the ceremony in the rabbi’s office and hosted an elegant lunch reception at a five-star restaurant in New York. I did not invite one friend. If I had, the others would have been insulted. Everyone understood. I felt strongly that for my second marriage, I wanted to minimize any stress that might occur in planning a wedding. Our original plan was to organize a reception afterward in which we could celebrate with all our friends, but it never happened. Instead, we ended up celebrating at many smaller gatherings with our friends. This was definitely the right decision for us. ■

The Bar Mitzvah has become such a significant subject of American cultural scrutiny that we have even read that some Christians do “faux” Bar Mitzvahs just to get in on the party scene. They are missing the big picture. Yes, we do love to party. As Daddy says, “Which would you rather spend your money on? Celebrating a Bar Mitzvah or a hospital bill?” Daddy prefers to dance. But the Bar Mitzvah is more than a party; it truly is a rite of passage, and not just for the kid.

 

The Jewish mother is literally counting down the days until the next Bar or Bat Mitzvah from the moment of birth. We kid you not: As soon as our cousin’s first son was born, Mommy called and said, “We’ve got a Bar Mitzvah in thirteen years!” Like it was going to be tomorrow. For you who are not Jewish, here is the basic Bar Mitzvah drill: