It’s over, it was wonderful, it was one of the sweetest days of my life.
I wish you could have been there because I know you would have enjoyed it tremendously.
I am humbled, but also on top of the world.
My son read from the Torah scroll so beautifully. The assistant rabbi and cantor became an amazing team. My husband and I aced our speeches. Grandparents, aunts, and uncles read their portions, and performed their duties with loving care. My younger son added a most yummy sweetness to the ceremony (it was he who undressed the Torah before the bar mitzvah boy’s reading).
Afterwards, the whole congregation jubilantly pelted our 13-year-old with marshmallows. Oh–and the two Klezmer musicians (the ones I’d been worried about thinking it would drive the celebration “over the top”) were so right on the mark, so necessary to me, so exacting, professional and superb.
You’ll be hearing more about this as I myself absorb the day’s beauty. We were able to nod our heads toward mom’s Christianity, while at the same time perpetuating what is one of Judaism’s greatest traditions. My husband commended our son for his life-long perseverance when tasks get tough. I spoke in my speech of how, at this dawn of adolescence, a child begins to write his or her own narrative. Our son later told us that our speeches were the best part for him because they seemed so “heart-felt.”
If you are planning a bar or bat mitzvah within the next few years, you might want to email me and I’ll send you a copy of our Saturday morning service. I also might have an email-able tape of the whole service soon.
Our refrigerator is brimming with leftover food. And isn’t that the best metaphor? Our hearts too are brimming, overly full of spiritual resources that we can thrive on for years.