Passover with Sheryl’s Family

I love the train. It is quiet, comfortable and quick. Sheryl and her mom, Jeanne, picked me up at 30th Street Station in Philadelphia on our way to Passover Seder at Fredda and Paul Pennock’s home. But first we stopped to visit the grave site of Jeanne’s parents, Pauline and David Levenberg, and Sheryl’s dad, Joseph Sackman. It always feels weird to me to see a headstone with a blank space. It feels rather menacing. It was a good thing to do. Sheryl’s mom can’t drive to visit - at 99, she doesn’t drive on highways or super busy streets anymore.

Seders are often long, drawn out affairs with lots of stories, songs, and catching up with family we only see once a year. This year the ceremony was rather truncated. I’m not sure why but the somberness of the Israeli hostages and the war in Gaza weighed heavy.

Max, and his partner (whose name I can’t remember) drove down from Maine to visit with their 8-month-old (giant) baby. Sheryl and her mom got to spend some quality time with this bundle of cuteness. The brisket and turkey were delicious along with the twice baked potatoes. We sat at what would normally be described as the kid’s table (off to the side). Joining Sheryl, Jeanne and I were Ken and Jen. Ken is one of my other twin brother from another mother. He is a blast. Jen is the new grandma of the giant baby (I gotta pay more attention to names).

The next couple days were spent at my MIL’s house hanging out, eating good bagels, and enjoying Jeanne’s company. We are planning her 100th birthday party either on her birthday in December or for next spring when the weather is better. It is remarkable that we can think about postponing a 100th birthday celebration as if there is no rush. Sheryl’s mom still works one day a week, lives alone, and spends more time chatting with friends than either Sheryl and I combined. She is impressive. As we left on Thursday morning, she was getting ready to plant some pansies and spread a bit of mulch in her garden.

Well, we are off to Mexico City!Læs mere