I had a great Toronto visit this past winter. I loved merging my Israel life with my Canada life, seeing that both are real for me. Seeing the odd similarities between the Wolbromski offshoots that sprouted in Canada, and those that took root in Israel's sandy soil.
Chani, the newest member, just married the grandson of my Zaidie's sister Golda. Just like my Canadian cousin Bitsy, Chani danced barefoot at her wedding. I looked at the bare feet, and thought, "Yes. This family".
It happens again and again, in the homemade weddings, or a familymade haggaddah at the ancient seder table. Mommy says with certainty that Buby stands at her elbow as she makes the chicken soup, and Shlomit's voice is just as sure, telling me that of course Abchu and Leah are with us at the happy memorial hike to their gravesite. All this with a hearty disdain for religion, but a ready shehechiyanu at each bright step, and an always freshened array of wondrous family rituals that map out melodies for joy, paths for transition, containers for comfort, reasons for hugging and seasons for gladness. Tradition starts here, sings our family here and our family there.
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