My son asked me to tell him about my favorite Pesach memory. It is the kind of question that should be a gimme. It doesn’t involve body parts or questions about sex. There is no philosophical discussion such as the one about why people do bad things or why is there war.
It is just a simple question in which I get to tell him about my favorite memory of the 35 or so sederim that I remember. Yet the truth is that I found it to be more than a little frustrating. I don’t have a favorite story, at least I can’t seem to think of one and that bothered me a little.
It seemed to me that with so many experiences to choose from I should be able to pick one or two, but I just can’t seem to pinpoint those extra-special moments. It made me wonder if perhaps I hadn’t taken them for granted.
So I spent some time thinking long and hard about Pesach and realized that I have a hundred favorite memories. Perhaps it is a cop out, but it is true. So here is a brief list:
1) The way that my parent’s house smelled. Brisket, Apple Matzoh Kugel.
2) The seder that I was finally old enough to stay awake the whole way through.
3) Listening to my great-grandmother tell my sister that she was shikkered (drunk) when all she had was grape juice.
4) My cousin’s matzoh ball soup.
5) My first time reciting the four questions by myself
6) The first time I led the seder.
How about you. What is your favorite memory?
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