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Posts Tagged ‘BatMitzvah’

It’s like the end of a play, the last curtain call. We’ve been working for weeks – the Bride for months and the Love Bug for years – on this past Big Bat Mitzvah weekend; and then it’s over. Our little girl has come of age. The whirlwind of cooking, catering, decorating, and celebrating has come to an end. Our Granddaughter was truly exceptional, reading the Torah with poise and welcoming friends and family with her beautiful smile.

The evening’s festivities included basketball games and food trucks galore. Phones were collected at the front end, so 8th graders could be kids. For the couple who married in an apple orchard on Thomas Jefferson’s mountain this very weekend 15 years ago, planning a party in a park at the edge of a golf course was beshert (fate). The Bride and Groom did a most amazing job!

We enlisted our cousins and Bob’s brother to help string 7 foot blue and gold streamers across the community center’s gym floor. People were skeptical, but ever so slowly my vision came to life. The Pumpkin was busy blowing up helium balloons for the arch entry, and before long the Bug arrived and helped with placement! The Groom’s parents had to quickly dry and cover all the outside seating after the morning’s rain. This party was truly a family affair.

At sunrise I’d collected local dahlias, snapdragons, bluebells and roses – it just so happens Nashville’s flower wholesaler is right down the street! I wish I had read the rules for designing perfect flower arrangements; related to my favorite swirling Fibonacci sequence, ‘the rule calls for using three types of dominant flowers, five greenery stems, and eight stems of an accent flower.’ I only had an hour to come up with 5 moveable bouquets for the day, so my kitchen looked like a disaster zone.

We invited the family over for brunch on Sunday and the weather was spectacular. The after party is always a welcome addition to the main event, we get to schmooze and kvell to our heart’s content!

The Love Bug’s Torah reading was about Lost Things. To paraphrase, God commands us to care for the property of another, friend or foe, as if it was our own, and to return it to them. To NOT BE INDIFFERENT. After all, it was silence and indifference that allowed the Shoah to happen. What are we doing as people are disappearing in the streets? When children are thrown out of Head Start? When families are separated?

Here are some Monday morning arrangements.

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Hip hip hooray, it’s Labor Day! A day of sales, and grilling outside, and saying a final farewell to summer. As I was pulling on my white pants, I had to thank all my coal-mining, union-creating Irish ancestors. All the farmers, and mill workers, the women who cleaned rich people’s homes, the women who washed their clothes. We Americans are an industrious lot.

I mean why hire someone to string a gym full of streamers for a BatMitzvah when we could do it ourselves?

The good news is Bob and I received our flu shots, and we have an appointment to get the new Covid booster. It’s almost like the government was reading my mind, except they thought in a very Trumpian way to restrict its distribution:

“The new shots from Pfizer, Moderna and Novavax are approved for all seniors. But the Food and Drug Administration narrowed their use for younger adults and children to those with at least one high-risk health condition, such as asthma or obesity. That presents new barriers to access for millions of Americans who would have to prove their risk — and millions more who may want to get vaccinated and suddenly no longer qualify.” https://www.pbs.org/newshour/health/fda-approves-updated-covid-19-shots-with-some-restrictions-for-kids-and-adults

After hearing about the latest school shooting in MN, the week after a bomb threat at the Grands’ school, I had a thought. What if ALL the teachers in America went on strike? Public school, Catholic school, private school teachers; what if they all said sorry but we refuse to come into your school buildings with your metal detectors and locked doors, we refuse to carry guns ourselves, we cannot in good faith put your children at risk. What if their one simple demand was to ban assault weapons?

Hell, I would support them. I’d go to every single picket line in town and bring brownies and coffee. How did we get stuck in this gun culture when a majority of Americans do not even own guns? It’s sad to just shrug our shoulders, to think that nothing will change, to chalk up our children’s lives as the cost of doing business. We’ve raised a generation of schoolchildren who have learned to run and hide for active shooter drills, in the same way we had to line up and walk outside for fire drills or crawl under our desks in case of atomic bomb attack.

Last night we had dinner with cousin Peg and Paul. In Bob’s inimitable way, he said he’d like to make the argument to any 2nd Amendment zealot that he thinks he should own an RPG! I mean, if it’s OK to own a military-style assault weapon… If you’ve never watched the movie Red, an RPG is a huge Rocket Propelled Grenade! “This is a shoulder-fired weapon that launches a rocket with a shaped-charge warhead to destroy targets, often tanks.” So of course, Peg asked how a MAGA person would respond to that, which led us into arguing with ChatGP about military uses and individual rights.

Today we celebrate workers’ rights – an 8 hour workday, child labor laws, protections against discrimination, and in light of school shootings most importantly of all, THE RIGHT TO A SAFE WORKPLACE! 

Oh and about not wearing white after Labor Day? I looked it up, and that custom came from the aspiring middle class. Since only the wealthy could afford to leave the city for a summer of cooler air and beaches, we wanted to emulate their wardrobe choices which switched from lots of whites and pale colors, “resort wear” if you will, to darker tones after Labor Day. I’ll let you in on a little secret, beige is the new white!

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Three generations went shopping for a dress. The Love Bug needed just the right dress for her right of passage; something that was fancy but could also move since playing basketball would be involved. We all three nestled into one changing room – too frou-frou, too itchy, too grandmotherly! One was gorgeous, but she didn’t want to look like the princess bride. I remembered shopping for the Bride’s wedding dress, and her joy when she finally found the right one in Grandma Ada’s closet.

My joy of shopping, my retail therapy, has been tempered lately. Like most Americans who land somewhere between purple and blue on our political landscape, I’ve been living with an underlying sense of dread. Every morning I wake up and wonder what new catastrophe our commander in chief has tweeted us into; we’ve bombed Iran (!), Bebe is coming to visit (?), the UVA President has resigned :-(, and wait, SCOTUS thinks Mr T needs more power(?!!).

I cannot follow the Senate’s debate on his big “beautiful” [sic] domestic and tax policy bill, with its cuts to Medicaid and federal nutrition programs, a testament to Republican greed and malice. I’m feeling helpless and hopeless, but I scan the latest updates and instead text the Bride:

“I loved the pale blue lace.”

Welcome to the hypernormalization club. I think this must be how the British felt during WWII, while bombs were falling on London and they were told to KEEP CALM AND CARRY ON. We are living in a totalitarian schizo nightmare, where people of a certain means continue going to work, going to the grocery store, picking up their children from school as if nothing else matters. And if they feel like protesting something – like the Israeli hostages or ICE picking up undocumented people in the street and shipping them to El Salvador – well, they risk not just jail time but even possibly their lives.

 “….two main things are happening. The first is people seeing that governing systems and institutions are broken. And the second is that, for reasons including a lack of effective leadership and an inability to imagine how to disrupt the status quo, people carry on with their lives as normal despite systemic dysfunction – give or take a heavy load of fear, dread, denial and dissociation.” https://www.theguardian.com/wellness/ng-interactive/2025/may/22/hypernormalization-dysfunction-status-quo

We stopped in the baby department to look for sun hats for the Twins, and I was lost among the pastel bears and embroidered flowers for awhile. Our newest granddaughters have grown into 6 month sizes! I can be grateful for each milestone our baby girls have reached, and still worry about the poor women and children who will suffer if this latest bill is passed. Even Elon is against it. But in order to do that, to carry on with sun hats and fear, we have to disassociate ourselves. And that is surely taking its toll.

When a country is fed so many lies, our response is to not believe anything. Or better yet, focus on the Bezos wedding, or the Diddy trial. Distract and demolish our institutions one by one in order to beef up the executive branch. But we must keep watch, we must call our legislators and protest, we must write letters to the editor, and never give up on our democracy. History is watching.

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