Honey and Apples

I would have liked to have gone to synagogue for Yom Kippur but I wanted to get the new futon couch out of the living room and down to Larry’s studio. It’s been sitting in the living room for over a week now, okay more like sprawled all over the living room like a teenager surrounded by various junk food options. Because there’s three parts, the futon, the sofa frame and the flat wooden slat part the futon lays on top of.

First I was putzing around the house waiting for Larry to be ready to start the operation. I was preparing the kitchen table for breaking the fast in the evening. On Yom Kippur you go all day without eating, turning deeply into yourself and discussing with God how things really need to be for the year ahead. The table is supposed to be ready already because you’re not supposed to work you’re so busy concentrating on praying.

I’m not so good at those kinds of things yet. I’m not a good planner because of making last minute decisions a lot. Like should we break the fast over at one of Larry’s relatives on the other side of the family which is what we usually do, or not. Should we concede once again how everyone on that side of the family is right that the way we are Jewish isn’t good enough, or not. For example moving furniture wouldn’t be considered as properly suiting Yom Kippur. In fact for most people it would be very hard to even fathom how moving furniture might be considered spiritual.

I love moving furniture around. Larry’s skeptical. Also it kind of upsets him how crazy I am for it, how eager I am to get in his private work studio, roll up my sleeves and rearrange to better accommodate his needs. What was very spiritual of me was how I really listened to his concern that I not barge and take over all over the place, be respectful of his space. What was spiritual of him was to explain in detail how he was feeling to me and not expect me just to know and not freaking out on me when I acted how I said I wouldn’t by accident a few times anyway.

Then Eli even joined in. Downstairs is Larry’s studio and Eli’s apartment. Eli heard us clearing out the space for the couch which is so when Larry feels like it he can just sit down and relax and draw and not be all cramped up in front of his computer. So Eli couldn’t help but do some work cleaning up his place. (Thank God) What I'm saying about Eli joining in is not about one of my subtle little observations. It’s what Eli said, that he felt compelled.

What I would say is that he felt spiritually compelled.

So poor Bubby, who is really not my Bubby but my kids’, was left to her own devices all by herself at synagogue. Not really all by herself, because she goes with her sister. And everyone at the synagogue is her friend and thinks she is so wonderful. She graciously greets them all, teeth, face, hair, clothes, all perfect. She’s so much that way that when you’re with her you don’t want to be because it’s like she’s not with you or maybe at most you feel like a daughter-in-law prop. Or whatever it is you are in relation to her.

When I called up Leslie’s house to let them know we wouldn’t be coming, her husband was home. They’re having the “family” breaking of the fast there. They’re doctors but he’s not Jewish. You’d think that his not being Jewish would suggest what a liberal family we really are. But the reason he’s acceptable is because of the subsection about being respectful to new family members with prestigious jobs. He’s home and he picks up the phone. What a pretentious goody-goody jerk. It would be better if he was Jewish. If he was Jewish I could have counted on him being in synagogue so I could leave a message. I’m telling him how sorry we are we won’t be able to make it. He’s got this kind of pompous voice so he’s signing off saying, “May your fall be a good one.”

That’s his substitute for Shana Tova or Happy New Year or “I hope your year is terrific,” which is the Jewish custom. I can tell he’s been thinking about the right thing to say to perfectly meet the level of the occasion but maintain his position as the “not Jewish guy” in the family.

I should be nice to him and not bitter. I should be sweet to him like honey and apples for a sweet new year.