Tuesday, October 1, 2019

The Tashlich ceremony at the House of a Hundred Grandmothers is held indoors. A sculpted fountain with running water in the lobby is enough like a stream to qualify. We don't toss crumbs or other objects into it, though, since there are no fish or ducks to eat them, and they would just clog the plumbing. Once again, I'm asked to say Kiddush in the acute care area. I bless the wine. My sister, who has come in with me, explains the ritual foods on the table. Once again, the prayer for having sustained us and kept us alive through this moment seems more meaningful here. Afterward, I join the family in the dining hall for dinner. The servers recognize me and load up my plate with goose, vegetables, and fragrant rice. It's as if they worry that I haven't eaten since I joined them last at Passover. The synagogue space was full for the morning service, but is emptier now that it's evening. On the way past, I'm dragged in to be the emergency tenth man. It's good to see some people who hadn't been there in a while. Some have been in poor health and are now much less mobile, but the congregation does what we need to so everyone can play his part. No one's in charge, and no one is officially coordinating things, but when the community acts together, it works.