Its like a double -edged sword, how I feel about the whole situation. On one hand the thing I love most about Jewish families is the closeness. Shabbat Dinners. Big Holiday shindigs. Loud voices. Cute Kids. Adorable little grandmas and grandpas. What’s not to love?!?
Then there’s the other hand. The intimidating hand. The “I’m meeting the family for the first time” hand. Because anyone who knows anything about Jewish families knows that meeting the family is not just a casual affair. It’s a judgement session, full of inquiries and interrogations, discerning how you measure up.
This Pesach Holiday I spent with “the family“. To say that I was a bit nervous was an understatement. Aunts. Uncles. Cousins. Mother… Full Fledged Pesach Dinner Seder. Recall our delivery from slavery. Recite the Haggadah. (of which I did read a section of, thank you very much.) Sing the Songs. Pray the prayers. etc.
A big deal to say the least… To which all my insecurities and fears were wiped away. Because it was wonderful.
I felt so welcomed and embraced. No interrogations. No intense conversations. No Robert DeNiro stares or gestures. Just great company. Lots of laughs. And Great Food. I ended up spending a majority of my Pesach Holiday with some of the family, and had a tremendous time.
And while yes, Meeting the Parents is still nerve-wraking, I survived my first big holiday with flying colors. (and lots of Matza)