Spring fever is definitely not in the air if you step outside today but Pesach fever is in full swing in every store, on every person’s mind, and certainly affecting everyone’s bank account. It was the first time in my life that I had to stand on line to use the keilim mikvah last Friday. Parking spots were almost nil and mostly men were bringing newly acquired pots, pans and everything else they, or I assume their wives, needed for the holiday.

I just had one lonely item. I walked right in, did it and walked out. As I suggested to a group of very lovely young boys who came to clean the inside of my car, they should expand their business to tovel items for people who could use that extra help. I know this is not a new idea but I have not seen it being done locally.

As is the case with most Yomim Tovim, I find that the occasion accentuates my feelings of loneliness and nostalgia. I am one of the few people who loved making Pesach, cooking and baking each item, and never thought it was anything but normal not to allow one morsel of already cooked food into our home.

Everything was prepared in Nina’s kitchen. From the 50 dozen eggs and the 75 pounds of potatoes that sat in our garage waiting to be dealt with, I never regretted one thing. My kids were coming home! Our minhagim were theirs. For one family in particular, the Eisenberg clan, they adopted only what they learned in our home. It is a real kavod to my beloved Mordechai. Even our tunes have remained intact.

Really, the Seder is a great test of everyone’s patience and fortitude. Suddenly everyone as young as 3 (and even 2) has to display their brilliance at reciting the Ma Nishtanah. It’s cute the first night but is there no way to make it possible for one night to count for all? My Mordechai used to say that one day all of us will only celebrate one Seder. Nu, how long do we have to wait for that? How long until we all eat kitniyot?

I know that some, as the sky darkens, have invented an earlier Seder before the actual necessary time so that all kids can participate, show their tons of haggadot, papers, cut outs and all the other brilliant contributions they have brought to show off at the Seder table. These kids must break into the matzah, run away and hide the afikomen, get their rewards, have a special treat for dessert, sing Dayenu and run to put on their pajamas.

I am the great-grandmother today of 33. That number is hard for me to write because it seems totally surreal. How could that be possible?

Does anyone realize when the entire family is together how many times one hears the Ma Nishtanah? I realize that the little babies are not included in this marathon. I guess there is a reason that we need pillows at the Seder. I am trying to be positive but with every good intention I have to say that after the first 10 it becomes slightly much!

I then think about the audacity I have for humorously complaining about such a trivial matter when so many wish they had this issue. There are those who do not have grandchildren present at their Seders. Some have children who have chosen not to come and might be estranged from their families; others have children who are not able to have children; some have children whose distance makes it uncomfortable and expensive to travel. Not everyone has the finances to travel to Israel, California or Florida to spend time with family. Whatever it is, my sarcasm is not meant in any way to hurt or upset anyone who is not in the beautiful situation that I am in.

I cannot imagine how Yarden Bibas, Leo Dee and his family, and all of the families who have been through the most unimaginable horrors can even think about a Seder. Amazingly, after having spent time with Leo Dee in Israel when our group had the occasion to meet him, I realize that he and his surviving children will be making a festive Seder meal. How? I cannot figure it out.

To hear from former hostages that while in captivity they tried to relive in their minds the Pesach story. How? To the families in Israel whose husbands, wives, children, brothers are still in some unknown place, everyone at our own Seder tables will be thinking of all of you in this beyond fathomable time of despair. To every single person living in our homeland whose husbands and sons are defending our country and will not be home for the Sederim, we pray for all of them. To the amazingly brave lone soldiers who made decisions that I am sure were not easy on some of their families, especially during a time of war, we are all deeply davening for you. I for one greatly admire each of you.

Whether you are at a Pesach program in Panama, Greece, Phoenix or Florida, etc., or at home (hopefully not alone), I implore everyone to pray for those in Israel as well as anyone else you might know who is living through a difficult time during this season.

Chag kasher v’sameach. Enjoy the kids!