A Night Quite Different

Audrey and I have been conducting the family Seder on the first night of Passover for many years. We took it over from my mother-in-law a few years after we were married and have just continued as our children arrived and have grown. Many years, we have extended our “family” with invited guests and expanded our enjoyment. We did that again last night at our 2020 Seder, but this one was especially special.

Audrey and I have different roles in the Seder. She coordinates the food part, and I run the service part. She usually gives me free rein, up to a point. If I am too long-winded, the food is ready to serve, and the guests are getting impatient to eat, Audrey lets me know that it is time to move on to what our Haggadah calls “the festive meal.”

Frankly, I like being the host and conductor. I am a little intolerant of “loosely run” Seders. We start at the beginning with a little introduction (during which I may pedantically introduce a theme), say the blessings over the wine and green vegetable, tell the story beginning by putting the youngest person (usually Amanda) on the spot to say the “Four Questions,” call out the plagues with finger drops of wine, sing Dayenu (“It would have been enough”), and make the famous Hillel Sandwich with both horseradish and the sweet apple stuff (Haroset). For me to be comfortable, there need to be a certain percentage of Hebrew prayers mixed with the English storytelling. And the full Grace after Meals complete with chants familiar from my youth and the kids’ camp experiences. And 4-5 songs performed in different tunes, depending on what we remember well. There are sometimes debates over which tune is the “right” one.

If this sounds like a lot, that point was made clear to me last night.  Amanda’s good friends Nicole and Phil said they could join us from Atlanta for only a few minutes because of their own family obligations and they weren’t sure they were ready for a “serious” Seder. Our New York cousins Mike and Gloria said they would be sorry to miss out on Michael’s “erudite” Seder. I’m not sure that was a compliment.

Which brings me to last night’s Seder and why it was truly “different from all other nights.”

Hosts and guests join in at our Zeder.
Miles couldn't keep us apart.

Like thousands of homes around the country and the world, we held our Seder over Zoom—a “Zeder” Brett called it, with me as Zeyde (Grandpa). There were a few glitches or scheduling issues. Brett’s computer microphone wasn’t functioning, so Amanda brought his voice in via cell phone while his lips moved on the computer screen. Nicole and Phil had an at-home Seder conflict at her parents’ house, so they cut out early. Brett’s friends (and our “adopted children”) Nicole and David—beaming in from way up near the Canadian border— made do with homemade matzoh crackers and missed out on brisket and gefilte fish. And throughout there was a slight timing lag, as voices had to cross miles of great divide to reach each other. The lag was particularly apparent as our friends Harvey and Phyllis joined us in readings and song.

All of that being said, this was probably the best Seder we have ever run or joined in. We shared memories of Seders past. Harvey remembered how his father would keep reciting the Haggadah story in Hebrew even while others around the table talked amongst themselves. Phyllis recalled sleeping under the table during what seemed to be endless Seders when she was a child. Audrey remembered how her mother and she would get tipsy over the cups of wine and would drive her very religious uncle crazy with their giggling. Audrey reminded Nicole of the Seder when Nicole told my mother, who was visiting from Savannah, about the special promotional presents she received during her time as editor-in-chief of Playgirl. “What kinds of presents?” my mother asked. “You don’t want to know,” Nicole replied. Amanda described the confusion involved with our conflicting song tunes. And I got to repeat the stories about the goat that may or may not have entered my Aunt Dot’s house during a Seder many years ago and about the platter of gravy-laden brisket that I may or may not have dropped as a teen one year but still get blamed for even today.

Anyone need a Playgirl t-shirt?

We happily exceeded the 40-minute Zoom time limit, which was gratefully extended by the powers that be at Zoom. And we laughed as we said the blessings and recited some of the story of Passover. Then we broke to eat our festive meal separately but also together. Harvey later joined us to sing the special Passover songs. Phyllis missed that imperfectly coordinated singing because she was already asleep and expressed annoyance that Harvey did not awaken her to join in.

I am hopeful that next year we will not need to conduct a Zeder but can instead gather at our home to share Passover memories and make new ones. But this Seder was special in its bridging both time and distance—bringing us together when we were forced apart.