I walked into the grocery store last week and saw a tower of gleaming honey crisp apples.As I carefully picked my bounty,I breathed in a memory of last year'sRosh Hashanahwhen my husband and I toasted the new year by dipping our favoriteapples in honeywhile our 8-month-old son gobbled up some homemade apple puree."This year,he'll have apples and honey with us,"I smiled to myself.
Over the last few weeks,the anticipation of my toddler dipping apples in the stickiest substance on the planet and watching his eyes sparkle with delight still brings a smile to my face,but this time of year also reminds me that being Jewish and,even more so,feelingJewish are very new to me. Four years is not enough to time to have a full repertoire ofRosh Hashanah recipestasted and perfected to bring to a friend's house. I don't havecraftsanddecorationsfrom years ago to pull out and hang around our house and myshofar blowingis spotty at best.I've never baked my ownchallahand Imournthe loss of my mother-in-law because we have no Jewish family to tell stories of my husband's Jewish childhood.At a time when Jews around the world are reflecting on a year of works and worship – I find myself asking,"Was I Jewish enough?"
We only lit thecandlesa handful of times,but I perfected the art ofcornflake chickenstrips and we sing the
Sh'ma
every night.
We had aHanukkahparty and fumbled our way throughlatkeswhile my baby ate the wrapping paper on his gifts and returned the ‘present' in his diaper the next day.
My best friend sewed an adorable King Ahasuerus costume for my son,but he fell ill with fever and we spentPurimin the emergency room.
My husband and I gave upchametzfor the entirety ofPesachfor the first time this year and I baked some delicious chocolate meringues and almond butter cookies.
And this past month,my toddler and I welcomed the return of Tot Shabbat at the JCC and I almost cried when I saw him clapping along to the familiarity of dinosaur Shabbat.
Most days I feel like I'm fumbling my way through creating a Jewish household and every year my husband and I promise to do better. When our son was born we felt like we had some time to figure out what Judaism looks like for us,but when my beaming toddler brings me his "bat-bat" (Shabbat) book I feel like time is running out.I picture him looking up at me and thinking,"Do you even know what you're doing?"Because I don't. I haven't perfected the art of moistroasted chicken,and I'm still googling,testing,and ear-marking recipes. I wish we lit the candles andblessed our sonevery Friday.I want to know more prayers and songs by heart. I am envious of those who are surrounded by Jewish family to kvetch and kvell with as they prepare a traditional meal. I don't know how to instill a strong Jewish identity in my son,when I'm only just discovering my own.
When I firstwrote about my conversionon 苹果beplayKveller,someone commented,"Your conversion means that your soul was present at Mt.Sinai to receive the Torah.Honor your Jewish soul with a meritorious life…"Reading these words brings me great peace and I want believe this with all my heart.Cultivating a Jewish household is truly my biggest challenge,and greatest pleasure. I hope G-d knows that I try and I never have to search far for a resolution because,for me,there is so much more to do and to know. So many Jewish memories left to make,moments to inspire and lessons to instill.I want my son to always know that he's Jewish,and I want to believe it about myself too.L'Shana Tova.
