Made me think of my father's 'seder'...my father was a stickler on that night; normally, a very religious man, he became obsessed on those two night; everything had to be done according to his 'dictat'...the table had to be set just so...the "pesach-plate' took for ever to assemble because he had to have it in the right order and enough for everybody...he wore a white robe, (a 'kitle'), had a small couch moved to the head of table, on which he reclined...we always had lots of guests at all our 'seders', who, I am sure, came to watch 'the' performance by my father, reclining on his little couch trying to eat the "maror" and chocking on it! Continuing the tradition, and the "stickler-attitude", the 'maror' he insisted on eating was a raw piece of horseradish...the poor man chocked and chocked; everybody would jump out of their chairs trying to help him, shouting advise, my father would gallantly try to assure one and all by hand gestures that he needed no help, while turning from red to purple...trying to catch his breath...the guests would vacillate between calling for an ambulance and returning to their seats...my father finally would start laboriously on his first breath, my mother released hers, and order of some sorts was restored...was it part of his penitence?...for what?...we never found out; but the fact was, that year after year, he went through that dreadful misery...when my sister married and brought her new husband home for the first 'seder', we had our father choking down the 'maror' on one side of the long table and her husband doing the same on the other side...yes, my sister chose the 'right' son-in-law for my father...I never enjoyed those 'seders'...the family was together and that was great! But, the "tradition" wore thinner and thinner every year...and it remained a serious event, not funny at all!
When I married the L&M, and attended the first 'seder' at my new in-laws, it was a revelation; they were also sticklers...but in quite a different way; about 30 people were invited the first night, and everybody had to come formally dressed; long gowns for the ladies, dinner suits for the men...and from that formal dress code, the event took off accordingly! It was all beautifully done and everybody participated... sort of...voices were muted, wine was sipped 'genteelly'...my new father-in-law, was splendid in his presentation of the 'Hagadah', everybody joining gently in at the right time; my new mother-in-law, having a cook in the kitchen and waiters to serve, presented a delightfully relaxed attitude, which I was determined to emulate as soon as possible! AND, of course the food was superb...and even though lots of wine was consumed during the meal, the company sailed majestically on it's way to the end of the Hagadah and the evening.
The second 'seder' at the in-laws, was fun; fun, at a 'seder'? A very strange concept for me, but welcome, and another revelation...my mother-in-law having three married sisters and being the oldest, had everybody plus children attend the second night at her place. Yes, everybody was in formal wear again, but! There was no "fomality"...stories of the first 'seder' were exchanged by one and all, disasters described...laughter bubbled...everybody was relieved that they were after the "first" and did not have to make the "second"...the wine was flowing, the "Hagadah" read, the songs sang with gusto by one and all, and I realized that a 'seder' could be fun and a joyous event...
Our first 'seder' in this new country was in a hotel; we were just not ready to make it at home...a disaster of major proportions which we never repeated! Just imagine 25 different "sects" making a 'stand' to be heard...in one room!...The in-laws, following the grand-kids, moved to Israel the following year, and took over; I wrote it up in my book of short stories...its called "Tradition!"...and it most certainly was...when we finally took over the making-of-the-'seder', it became a mixture of the new and the old; no, nobody chocked on the 'marror', but we told the story...and nobody came dressed formally, but that came out at some point during the evening...it was not a great-fun-evening, but it was a very pleasant way to mix tradition, friends and memories...and, great food! Because by then, the Wacky One, came into her own....
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Debbie Morgenstern is the author of "My Life in Israel" and other short stories.
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