It was not my intention to begin this with a short discussion about the fond memories we all have of the Rav, zt”l, and the Lubavitcher Rebbe, but since one has not been able to turn on the news over the past few days without hearing of the sad demise of the Pope, I began to think of how different we Jews are in terms of how we memorialize our gedolim.
As the world will remember the Pope for the next two weeks until the next cardinal is installed as the new Pope, the Catholic world will move on, and the memories of the Pope who is to be buried in a few days will slowly ebb away. Contrast that with our own lives, where there is only one person known as “The Rav” and another known as “The Rebbe.” They are and will be ingrained in our lives forever. Everyone knows who the Rav is and everywhere in the world when one has the opportunity to visit a Chabad House they will always be reminded of the goodness of The Rebbe. We certainly know of other gedolim, but those particular names will only be associated with two individuals who will always be known for their many attributes. No one will ever take their place.
I am not exactly sure how to segue into my original idea of sharing my Pesach experience with you, but I guess I now have done so. I know I have been quite clear in the past as to how strongly I felt about being at home for Pesach with all of our children around us. I didn’t mind the work involved, in fact I loved it, and was proud of the fact that everyone looked forward to coming home to the specific family traditions which were ours, the bonds that were formed by cousins and aunts and uncles who lived in different cities and the entire experience which we planned for weeks prior to the arrival of the mob!
My life has become so different in many ways and making Pesach is no longer on my agenda (sadly). This year I enjoyed totally different Pesach experiences. For the first few days I joined my Kinderlehrer family at the Majestic Retreats program in Ft Lauderdale. Before I share my thoughts, imagine waking up every day to blue skies and 80 degree temperatures for an entire week. It has to soften the experience of hundreds of people making individual seders for their families in the same room. The noise level is a bit much. Nevertheless the divrei Torah shared by my Kinderlehrer bochurim, Noam and Eyal, made my experience totally worthwhile and I only wish that my Mordechai could have listened (maybe he did) because I know he would have shepped so much nachat. Another very positive observation of mine was once again noting the great acceptance of Zev by everyone. The moment that loud singing and dancing took place in the dining room, Zev was the first to run over and join in with his participation adding a special flavor to the joy and happiness of the group. I know I am probably more conscious than most of the wondrousness of inclusion, and our young Jewish world has honestly mastered the art of menschlichkeit when it comes to that.
I think that next year during check in at the hotel there should also be weigh in. Oh my gosh: From the breakfast, to the lunch, to the tearoom, to the barbecue, to dinner, to another food orgy for the evening program, I can’t even explain how nuts it is. I felt truly embarrassed when the waiters and waitresses had to notice the enormous amount of waste that went on. Have a steak and not like it? No problem, just order the ribs and maybe the chicken or something vegetarian if you are so inclined.
I know that everyone loves it, but let’s face it, in reality it is obscene. I plead guilty as well, not so much to taking food which I did not eat but certainly to eating in amounts that I would never do, considering that in another hour there were other choices.
I many times thought of those still in the tunnels somewhere eating, if they are lucky, half of a pita with some dirty water.
After spending days in the lap of luxury (and I did hear comments from others that this was either a step down from another program or a step up), I jetted off to Norfolk, Virginia to spend most of chol hamoed and the last days of the chag in Virginia Beach, where my daughter Malkie and her husband Baruch rented a house with the hope that it could accommodate her family. The house had 10 bedrooms and she felt that she could have used more. Malkie is a person who spent many years of joy watching as all of the cousins lined up in our basement in sleeping bags on the floor. Once again, we really lucked out with the weather as it was sunny each day with the temperatures generally between 65 and 70, and higher on other days. Who would have dreamt that Virginia Beach would become an enclave of frum families from all over descending upon it for the week of Pesach? Many of the homes are extremely large, with 10 bedrooms not considered the largest. One friend had an elevator in her home which she had not even requested.
Our “home” was attractive to Malkie because it was on a cul de sac with the front yard being a humungous basketball court and the back of the home directly on the canal. Each floor of the home had large porches overlooking the water, each floor had large living areas aside from the bedrooms, there was an indoor pool and the dining room easily sat almost 30.
Each day the kids and adults walked to the beach (two blocks away), played in the sand and went into the ocean very “unintentionally;” one day an activity was to drive into Norfolk and visit the SS Wisconsin (similar to the Intrepid) where retired veterans who had served on the ship many, many years ago were posted to answer any questions and share their own experiences, which charmed the adults more than the kids. It was while “visiting” the ship prison that one of our great granddaughters panicked because she believed that she would be put into prison. She stayed behind for that part of the tour with Bubbie. For those who are not aware, Norfolk is the largest Naval Base in the world.
Another day was spent fishing (five minutes away) with a stop first at the tackle shop. I decided to wait in the car as they paraded inside to what I thought would be a purchase of worms but was instead little fish. (maybe minnows). I preferred not to get too close to them. The biggest coup was when Tzvi Eisenberg, age 11, who lives in Norfolk where his father is the rav of the shul, caught something big enough to take home and cook (for those who were interested, mainly the kids). The blending of the Eisenberg clan on this amazing adventure of a week will be something that none of the cousins and their parents will forget.
Yes, everyone drove there with one exception and it is a shlep to drive from Kew Garden Hills with five children 11 and under but once they saw what they were getting into not one person had a regret. Our Chicago granddaughter Adina and her family flew in with five children. It was great. It was terrific. It was wonderful to see how everyone chipped in with sweeping, vacuuming, cleaning etc etc etc, but as her mother I have to say that Malkie worked unbelievably hard and never complained. First of all, she made every drop of food and brought it with her, driving 14 hours from Rochester by herself. It was a humungous undertaking.
I think that Walmart and Costco in Virginia Beach probably dropped their amount of sales since Sunday by 80%. Each delivered at least once a day. Oh, fishing?? Let’s buy rods from Walmart. Then when one broke, no problem, Walmart came right back, picked it up and within two hours she was credited. Two young cousins who never see each other as one lives in Chicago and the other in Norfolk entertained the ladies (only) with a show which they organized within a few hours. I for sure could not do the dance maneuvers which they gracefully pulled off. Chaviva, the oldest of the Eisenberg grandchildren, was in charge of the music during the performance.
There were minyanim on practically every other street in homes in which people were kind enough to offer the space. Sifrei Torah were brought, there were constant chats going on “Anyone have extra millk?? I bought too much—, anyone need?” It just went on and on.
Two totally different ideas of how to spend the chag. Each one special in their own way. I give thanks for having this amazing family giving me so much joy, primarily because they all care so much about each other. Mordechai, whatever we did, I am happy to say it worked.
Thank you Hashem for so much nachat and bracha.
Nina Glick has many accolades but her pride and joy and greatest accomplishment is her family.
