So much better than a cocktail party!!!

Of course, there's no comparison between a break-the-fast with awesome people to end the High Holidays and a cocktail party. An alternative title to this post was "Pride Cometh Before a Fall," and you'll see why if you keep reading.
But first, more observations about the services.

Yesterday's services were lovely. They were also long, considering my recent back problems. After taking enough Advil and Clonazepam to kill an elephant, I was so relaxed that I really didn't care about the pain. It also made me less self-conscious at the services, which worked out well. (Now I see how people get hooked on drugs! They're great!!)

The Rebbetzin, the Rabbi's wife, and I did not get off to a good start. She was cold and abrupt with me when she asked, and I told her I'm not Jewish. I was hurt and offended. She did change a bit after learning about my ancestry, but it still hurt. I don't think a rabbi's wife should be like that with visitors. (I've met other rabbi's wives who were much more hospitable.) Things have now improved dramatically. (But I won't give particulars about the congregation since I'm writing about the rebbetzin!! :))

A few observations: there was a peaceful time for introspection and prayer during the services. I didn't feel in my element enough to really have a deep prayer time around so many people, but many others did. Many people (including me) wore white or pale-colored clothes, which must symbolize either repentence or purity; I'm not sure which. The overall effect was very soothing. The music was absolutely beautiful and haunting, and I can't get some of the melodies out of my mind even now. There's one that has the words "V'Yom Som Kippur" (I think), which is particularly beautiful. I think I recognized another one as a melody also used in Fiddler on the Roof, but maybe it's just similar.

I missed one of the services, because I had to come home, make fruit salad, and pack everything up for the break-the-fast. I rushed back for the Yizkor service, and was very sad to learn that I had just missed my grandfather's name being read. But the rabbi saw me come in, and he read my grandfather's name again at the end. I broke down and started crying. When the rebbetzin saw me, she was very warm and gentle toward me. She comforted me, hugged me and brought me kleenex, for which I felt very grateful. It also went a long way toward mending our rocky start.

I grieved his passing and told him the things I wish I could have said when he was living. It's so sad that my he's not here to see how I'm trying my best to keep some Jewish traditions alive in our family, and that I've taken a bold stand for Israel, and how I plan to make aliyah, and that I'm a Century 21 Realtor (as I've mentioned, he was broker of a Century 21 in Boca.) He would love to know these things, and we would have so many good talks (and, of course, debates). We lost 20 years due to both of our stubbornness, and I mourned that lost time, too. I thank G-d for His gift of giving us a close, loving relationship in my grandfather's last year of life, and I will hold on to that.

For me, the Yizkor service was obviously the most meaningful, as it was an opportunity to honor my grandfather, Jay Simon Estern (ne Epstein), and to mourn his passing.

Okay, now on to the break-the-fast. I drove a sweet 85 year old lady named Yetta to the house where it was held, and we had a great conversation. Both she and the rebbetzin are trying to make a match for me with a nice guy who came, named John. I don't know him well, except to know that like me, he's not Jewish, but is very supportive of Jewish issues. Oh, and another prerequisite: he's tall. :) (How superficial of me, I know! I have a thing for tall men...) We shall see... Yetta also told me who to avoid: "Stay away from him!" She said about one guy. "He's no good! Divorced already, and it wasn't a match to begin with!" She's a pistol!

We arrived at the house (along with about 50 other people), and it was a mad dash around the kitchen to put out the food: arrange the chopped liver plate, assemble the fruit salad into the hollowed pineapples, and heat the knishes. I was so proud, and everyone was really impressed!!! I brought my nice dishes to display the food properly. The hostess told me that the fruit salad was so beautiful that she used it as the centerpiece, and I received tons of compliments on the knishes. And the chopped liver? The cantor (who definitely did not need the added cholesterol, if you know what I mean) absolutely loved it! The leftovers were sent home with him. He said that the chopped liver and knishes "took him back to his childhood." Yay!! (Funny note: he said the chopped liver was delicious, until I told him it wasn't made with schmaltz, then he said it was "pretty good." I never should have told him!)

The other food was outstanding (except for the gefilte fish, of which I'm not a fan). There was salmon and Nova lox, an amazing apple-cranberry noodle kugel, zucchini casserole, chicken soup, carrot soup, fantastic matzoh-ball soup, cherry crumble, and so much more-- I can't even remember it all!! It was a feast!

The people were so hospitable, too. One interesting thing was that upon arrival, a few guests seemed very low-energy and wan. I asked one lady if she was okay, and she said she was just really hungry and had a headache. I found out that most of the guests had been fasting for 24 hours, from both food and water. ( I had not realized that the fast included water.) So they were understandably famished in the beginning, but that didn't last for long. It was crowded and friendly, many of us sitting at card tables, kids enjoying themselves, everyone laughing, eating and talking at once. It felt like a very happy family. To tell the truth, it felt a lot like Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner, but not as restrained. I ate way too much-- how could I resist? I ate six desserts before losing count. It was a beautiful experience and holiday, and I'm so glad I was invited!

[Note: I cannot fast, as I have hypoglycemia. Instead, I "fast" by eating a minimal amount of very bland food, just enough to keep me from having health repercussions.]

So back to the "Pride cometh before a fall" bit. Incidentally, the actual verse reads "Pride goeth before destruction, and an haughty spirit before a fall." (Proverbs 16:18-19).
As anyone reading my blog can tell, I have an unhealthy dose of pride about my cooking. After thoroughly enjoying the evening, I returned home, walked inside, and the bag holding my nice serving dishes promptly broke-- and all the dishes crashed to the floor. So in the end, G-d had the last word about my pride. I never realized that pride would come before a literal fall! I guess I still have a ways to go...