I just read a story about a wedding guest … a member of the bride’s family, who refused to let go of the groom (during a dance) and when the bride tried to cut in, she got so violent that she had to be escorted off the premises.
I am tired of the negative stories. I want to focus on the positive ones, which brings me to a recent wedding, which included items of members of the family from generations past — a great grandmother’s ring, a chupa (wedding canopy) made by a grandfather, a wine goblet from the groom’s Bar Mitzvah and another from the bride’s Bat Mitzvah, and an embroidered handkerchief from the bride’s momma of blessed memory.
After the traditional breaking of the glass, the bride and groom went to a private room for a short time and, then, the music started. The bride and groom entered for their first dance together as husband and wife. Then came the ever-popular father/daughter dance. I looked at the father’s eyes and I could just imagine him picturing her as a baby, as a toddler, as a young girl and, now, here she was all grown up and ready to start a family of her own.
They held each other and started to sway to the music and then I heard the father tell his daughter that he still remembered how they used to dance and how much it meant to him and right then and there, the bride took off her shoes and did what she used to do as a child … she put her right foot on her daddy’s left foot and she put her left foot on her daddy’s right foot and as he moved, he lifted her right along with him.
Of course, I overheard him say it was not quite as easy as it was so many years before, but there was no mistaking
that a memory was not only being relived, but a new memory was being created, something to pass down from generation to generation. It was, indeed a beautiful moment … a moment to cherish for all time.
Now let me tell you about the other touching moment … one that came during a very different right of passage … a funeral. During a recent eulogy, I talked about the deceased’s talent with a pair of knitting needles and some yarn. I talked about how she made sweaters and afghans and I talked about how nothing can make you feel warmer than your momma’s afghan; if you put it on, you can feel all her love surrounding you..
A few hours after the service, I called the daughter of the deceased, who had a three-hour ride home after the service and she wanted to get home before it got dark. But I found out she did not go straight home. She went back over to her mother’s condo. Do you know why? That’s right, she went to get the afghan that her mother made for her many years before and she told me that whenever she feels sad or sick, whenever she has a fever with the chills, she is going to grab that afghan. I, for one, can’t think of a better medicine. Now, if only she had her momma’s recipe for chicken soup.
Shalom my friends,
Rabbi Craig H. Ezring
Rabbi Ezring is a member of the National Association of Jewish Chaplains and serves in this capacity in a number of Health Care settings in the area including Advocate Home Care Services and L’Chayim Jewish Hospice in Partnership with Catholic Hospice of Broward County.