Bar/Bat Mitzvah Recap

The Service of course, went off without a hitch.  Twins L and Z, working in tandem and perfect sync, were relaxed, poised, clear-voiced.  And yes, indeed, they were well prepared and in command of their service.  In evidence and duly noted were all the instructions and minor adjustments from the run-through on Friday. 

Standing at the bemah, (the podium) L beamed at her audience, while Z stood in dignified composure.  Both maintained their proper distance from the mic in order to be heard. Both impressed with their Hebrew chanting.  In fact, the pianist later remarked that Z should seriously consider singing... (his response:  nah, not one of his many interests at present.)

The Proud Parents  E and D added their wonderful remarks, beginning with an appropriate quip from E that she was wearing waterproof mascara.

The Party  A joyous, boisterous affair, the Ultimate Birthday Celebration with 50 kids dancing with the DJ, 100 adults shrieking around tables, that's a Bar Mitzvah, for you.  On the menu: something for everyone, a s’more's bar, custom-made pasta, fun in the photo booth, and just the right amount of wine to go around for the adults.   Altogether, a once-in-a-lifetime birthday Z and L and we will never forget.  Snippets of conversation, not nearly adequate to call a visit, but enough to leave heads spinning.

The Morning After Even more food, more celebration.  D and E's friends, J and M,  hosted a lavish brunch, buffet tables groaning with deli, baked goodies, homemade coffee cakes, strata, luscious desserts, salads, and all the usual complements to bagels.

The Long Goodbye As E likes to say: WASPs leave and never say good-bye. Jews say good-bye and never leave.  That old joke holds true from me.  Somewhere between the caffeine and carbs and the conversation, I get stuck like a fly, buzzing around the room, never quite ready to get on the road. M gets impatient with my excruciating long goodbyes, actually walks out the door without me and waits in the car in self defense.  Can’t say that I blame him.  We have a four-hour drive to get home. Back in Detroit, there will be no gatherings like this, not any time soon. No sons and daughters, sisters and brothers, aunts, cousins, nephews and nieces to drop in for brunch, or for an afternoon chat.  So what can I do?  With my heart scattered to the wind, with family all bidding adieu, going their separate ways in Chicago, or back to Cleveland, Sarasota Dallas,and St. Louis, I  throw a kiss  . . .  to the road  

humming . .  . hava nagila, hava nagila, hava nagila,    

In case you were wondering:  here’s the translation of the ubiquitous Hava Nagila

Hava nagila x3  Let’s rejoice

v’nismeha   ...and be happy

Hava neranenah x3  Let’s sing

v’nismeha      ...and be happy

Uru, uru ahim!  Awake brothers

Uru ahim, b’lev sameah   Awake and be happy