Yesterday was a perfect Rosh Hashanah weather-crisp and sunny to start the day. After a lunch of chicken soup from the pot Tuvia created on Thursday I was off to Hilda’s honey cake party, a tradition I’ve been honoring since I first moved to Rockland County for my teaching job at Pearl River High School. That first fall, brand new to the area, Hilda as my colleague in the English Department, extended an invitation for the holidays and I’ve been back even since.
Tuvia remained home for the afternoon, waiting for an important call, so I was free to mingle with friends, fill in gaps as we sat together on Hilda and Norman’s deck with the pool facing us, soon to be under cover until next May.
My 92nd St. Y ladies circled to the table, enjoying the honey cake, the wine, the conversation. We don’t travel to the Y anymore on Monday nights for the Poetry Center, in fact, we rarely see each other as a group. But Florence, Freide, Diana, Pearl, Trudy, Rena, Hilda remain powerful women, inspiring and supportive, still present and open to scheduling breakfast or lunch.
It’s really never about the food. That’s just the excuse for another connection to the past and present.