Next Year in Jerusalem

There's one in every family. You know, the person who speaks their mind clearly—sometimes too clearly. I'm that person in my family. I tend to say what I think clearly and loudly, and I've been known to hurt feelings in the process. I'm trying as I get older to think about what I say before I say it, soften my message a bit, and even to bite my tongue and say nothing in certain situations. But after yesterday's Thanksgiving debacle (and it was a debacle) I don't have the desire to put in the effort. I'm just too darned ticked off.

My family acted like wild animals yesterday. Vultures to be precise. And I'm very disappointed in them.

Let me give you a little background. Thanksgiving in our family is always held at my aunt's house. Three of us usually do the cooking for 20+ people, and the 2 of us who cook at our homes bring what we cook to my aunt's house. Everything was unfolding according to tradition. My cousin and I (the 2 who bring food from our homes) arrived within seconds of each other. We made sure to put out appetizers so no one would go hungry while we took some time to say hello and chat with people we hadn't seen in a while, started reheating things, and preparing the few dishes that had to be cooked at the last minute like homemade rolls.

Then the insanity started. First someone started saying, "Can we eat yet?" and proceeded to walk into the kitchen every 15 minutes asking the same question. My dad told my uncle to start carving the turkey. I sent my uncle out of the kitchen, telling him we weren't ready yet and not to listen to my father. And my dad did it over and over again, at least 4 or 5 times, even though I asked him to cut it out.

The next thing I knew, people were pushing me out of the way in the kitchen to get to the food on the burners. Keep this in mind. It wasn't late. It was only 5 o'clock. Most everyone didn't even get to my aunt's house till after 3 pm. We were going to eat by 6 at the latest—it would have been earlier if they hadn't gotten in my way. And there were 5 appetizers on the table. I was done cooking at 6:03 pm. When I finally sat down to eat, I was no longer hungry, and I was disgusted and angry. What happened to manners? What happened to respect? What happened to simple human decency?

Let me be clear. I have no problem with feeding the little ones ahead of time so they can go along their merry way and get back to playing. I have no problem with someone who has to be at work at 7 pm grabbing a plate and leaving when they have to leave. But I cooked for a week beforehand. My aunt cooked for a week beforehand. Yes, I worked that hard because I wanted to—but I wanted to because I love them. And if my aunt wants to accept that kind of behavior from people who supposedly love her, that disrespect for the love we put into our cooking, that's up to her. I will not. I will never put myself into a situation like that again.

There are 4 words that end every seder at the Jewish holiday of Passover. Next year in Jerusalem. It has many interpretations, but for me it's about hope. The hope that one day there will be peace in the Middle East. The hope that one day all people will live without war. The hope that one day there will be an end to disease, poverty, and hunger. After yesterday's maddening chaos, these words have new meaning for me. Next Thanksgiving I think I'd rather go work at a food kitchen or pantry, and help people who actually appreciate my efforts.

Next year in Jerusalem.

P.S.: It would have been nice to be able to take a picture of the table before the vultures attacked.


P.P.S.: My dad did apologize to me and I accepted his apology.