I’m the third generation in our family who is not religious, any religion, though potentially I had two options from my parents.
Many years ago, my Grandma send me money for my birthday. She had extremely limited means, and we all kept telling her that she didn’t need to give us gifts, but she insisted, and since she couldn’t leave her apartment any longer to buy us something, for more important events she would send me and her other grandchildren a check.
I was standing firm on my feet by then, and I needed money much less than she did, so I wanted to buy something special, something to remember her by. So, I bought a menorah (hanukkiah). As I said, she wasn’t religious, so the menorah I got wasn’t a traditional one: Michael Aram, one of my favorite designers, made it as an olive branch.
Hanukkah is the only Jewish holiday that I kind of celebrate: for eight nights I light candles, think about my grandmother, and try to keep Rusty away from the fire.
So, today I lit the first candle, and three of us had a crab dinner (for those of my readers who knows about Judaica even less than I do: it’s not an acceptable food for observant Jews). SOTD Chanel Cuir de Russie (a subconscious nod to my other side of the family tree?).
Happy Hanukkah to everybody who celebrates! (And I’ll be back soon with the next postcard.)