Last year we built a Sukkah in our backyard. We used bamboo supplied by a friend from her property, old sheets, and shrubbery from the edge of the swamp in the back of our house. Our Sukkah resembled a tent fit for Tyrion Lannister. In South Carolina, the earth sunk and 6 foot poles yielded a 5 foot nothing Sukkah.
Despite that, we attempted to sleep in it with an eight-month -old baby in sleeping bags. That lasted 2 hours and I ran back inside. We recited the appropriate Brachot in our Sukkah, we lit candles, and ate challah. We didn’t go to Shul much because we were recovering from mixed reviews of our High Holiday choir performance.
We were a mixed choir of 6 in a Conservative Synagogue. I had great musical plans for those High Holidays, but most members were all talk and no action, and the result was substandard. So, by Sukkot were unhappy about our Synagogue. That was the beginning of our transition to orthodoxy.
We didn’t know then, that we will change cities. We didn’t know that we would be recovering from the debt of moving all of our belonging. We didn’t know that my husband would be short on days off. We didn’t know that my mother will become a burden instead of a contributor to our daily routine.
This year we go to Shul a lot in comparison. We have learned a lot. But we seem to be running behind on everything all the time.
I lower, and reprioritize my expectations all the time. We didn’t lead the High Holidays this year, but at least I was present for Yizkor to recognize my Father, my Grandmother and my Grandfather.
I spent part of the Yom Kipur service in the kids room, listening to Jewish Children’s literature, while my daughter played with blocks. We left during Nila and did not return for the evening service, but we fasted. We did brake -fast at home and were quite happy following my family tradition.
I recall my Zadie a lot lately. He always had hot tea with bread and butter ufastenzach following a reset for fish or meet meal.
When I was seven to ten-years-old, he went with me to the public park in the neighborhood and build a hut for Sukkot. He would sit on the ground in a tent made from branches and daven . If any neighbors would come by and notice us, he would say that he is playing with his granddaughter. When I got older, he simply brought branches into the house and lay them on the furniture.
I recalled this story when we underestimated the weather this year.
It is not South Carolina, but the hurricane rain made a loop into Virginia to make it rain from Shabbat after Yom Kipur all the way to the second day of Sukkot.
We ordered bamboo, bought inexpensive curtains for the walls, and planned to get bamboo blinds for the roof.
At the end of Shabbat we discovered that the usual headwear stores stopped carrying bamboo blinds. The Sunday forecast of drizzling rain till 4 pm turned out to be a downpour till 7 pm.
My husband started building the Sukkah in the rain at 11. I was busy in the kitchen, stuffing Jalapeno peppers with cream cheese. When I called him in for lunch in the oomph time at 4 pm he asked me to help him.
The Sukkah was small and crooked. The ground under it shifted. In two minutes of my help it collapsed on the grass. My disappointed husband ordered me in the house.
With mud on the carpet to clean up after the Chag, rubbles in the backyard, and loads of laundry to get too, we drove to Shul.
At least this year we own a set of Lulav and etrog to use at home. We are ready to be guests at the Shul tonight for the Pizza in the Hut. I am sure my daughter will enjoy a lot more then the sleeping bag with me last year.
As perfectionist as both my husband and I are, I think this is one instance that we get an A for effort. I hope Ha-Shem will understand me this year and his is the only grade that matters.
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