Two grandmothers, a mom and dad, a younger brother — and a seemingly composed Bat Mitzvah girl

Before 9 a.m. this morning, I watched a family cadre happily entering Temple E-Manuel, the synagogue down the street from our house. All smiling, they made me wonder. Would I have had a more serene life if I had been a Bat Mitzvah more than 50 years ago, if I were currently more spiritual, more Jewish?

Would a modicum of faith have contained years of anxiety and self-doubt?

Where would this Bat Mitzvah have taken place? I was raised hypocritical-Orthodox. Reform synagogues have always felt like churches, which I immediately slough off.

Would I have more readily found my place in the world with a few spiritual underpinnings? Religion. Who needs it, is what I’ve always surmised.

Yet, I can’t erase this morning’s family’s image from my mind.

Instead of praying or supporting goodness, today I did a few bad things.

Cooked a sirloin steak for dinner, stove-top according to the internet instructions, using lots of olive oil and butter. “This isn’t the healthy way to cook a steak [is there one?] but it’s the best way,” the chef-guy wrote. I can’t remember the last time I had a steak. It was so good I ate the whole thing, along with a salad to make me feel less like a horrible human being.

I’ve eaten breakfast out two days in a row. This morning crisp bacon with blueberry pancakes, before eating the best blueberry pancakes (with real maple syrup) next week at Cafe This Way in Bar Harbor.

Okay, so I’m going to before-I-leave-Tucson-for-Maine places. I’ll only eat fresh seafood there.

Last night I had a cookie with my skinny friend Lori, who’s a lot younger than me, and apparently can eat anything without gaining an ounce.

Not me. What’s with this food thing? Do I not care that I’ve gained 20 lbs. since Brook and Gian’s wedding four years ago? Lost my estrogen. I’m old, I tell myself.

Back to this morning…so what did I do after breakfast? Went to Barrio Bread for a small crackling loaf.

I’m going out to breakfast again tomorrow. I’ve gotten a few mosquito bites in the last few minutes. A Bat Mitzvah wouldn’t have made any difference.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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This entry was posted in Baby Boomers, Family Matters, Food/happy hours and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Two grandmothers, a mom and dad, a younger brother — and a seemingly composed Bat Mitzvah girl

  1. Dan Cobbledick says:

    Love the last graf ❤️

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