Just a short post to explain my silence recently… the Muse has not visited. Or maybe he/she did, but couldn’t get in through the door of my mind – which is currently full of The Bar Mitzvah.
For those of you who don’t know (and I can’t imagine why I haven’t told you yet, even if I’ve never met you before), Eldest Son turned 13 recently and his Bar Mitzvah, the Jewish coming of age rite of passage celebration, is almost upon us.
Each Shabbat, in Synagogue, a specific part of the Torah scroll is read out by an adult member of the community. The Torah scroll contains the text of the five books of Moses in the form of a scroll handwritten in Hebrew. Without pointing – and pointing is basically, Hebrew vowels. Since it’s specified in advance, and the same bit happens each year on the same Hebrew date (which obviously is not the same as the Julian date), once the date of the Bar Mitzvah is set, we know which portion of the scroll the Bar Mitzvah boy (or Bat Mitzvah girl) will need to read.
For nearly a year therefore, Eldest he has been preparing for the Shabbat service where he will read his portion of the Torah Scroll. He’s been learning that particular piece of the text in Hebrew with vowels, off by heart, so he can read it from the scroll by using the text without vowels as a prompt. It is difficult, but he’s doing really well. And luckily, even the Jewish members of the congregation on the day (and they will be outnumbered by the non-Jewish members, given the varied backgrounds of our friends and family), probably won’t notice if he gets it wrong. The Wardens might, and they’ll correct his pronunciation, but it’s a rare portion that gets read without a correction, even by the Wardens, who are seasoned at this.
In the meantime, for the parents (and in our case, Grandma), this is like organising a wedding without the Bride. Family members and friends are coming from, not quite the four corners of the globe, but close to it. Catering has been organised and outsourced to the Synagogue Catering Society, location luckily is the hall under the Shul, so no complicated decisions to be made there, clothes have been bought, and travel arrangements have been, well, arranged.
Obviously all of the stress has set off my colitis, which is not helping, but finally today, I felt that the pieces were falling into place. I’m now starting to feel as if I might just enjoy it…
And just in case any of my Paleo followers wondered, no, the food on the day will in no way shape or form be Paleo. Not even remotely. Health and wellbeing are all very well, but 4000 years of history and culture, and the combined weight of family expectations are just too much to argue with. Especially when you have an aunt who has MasterChef levels of food creations skills and is bringing a car-boot full of cakes. It won’t be a boozy affair, but I am expecting a serious sugar hangover for several weeks afterwards…