A Peek Behind the Curtain

These last few blog posts have hopefully provided you a better understanding of what to expect from the service. It's fair to say, however, that there is a lot more going on during those hours leading to lunch. I remember when Danny and I got married, we took my maid of honor, who wasn't Jewish, to morning services. Before we went, I prepared her for what to expect that isn't necessarily part of the service, but that she might find curious or even disruptive.

Knowing that many of you are coming from different congregations, as well as other denominations,I'd like to familiarize you with what to expect outside of the traditional series of prayers, Torah readings and sermons.

Services start right at 9:30 a.m. and go until about 12:30 p.m. more or less. However, people tend to arrive anywhere between 9:30 a.m. and 10: 15 a.m. Some may consider that rude or sacrilegious, but it's a common occurrence in most conservative congregations throughout the world...or at least the ones I've attended.

Arriving at 9:30 a.m. has its benefits. Towards the beginning of the service, before 10 a.m., Danny and I will present Andrew with his Tallis (prayer shawl) and say a few words to him. Also, you'll have your pick of seats to sit in. Not that the seats fill up, but people tend to save seats for those that are on the way. In most cases Tallis' and prayer books will be strewn across the rows. In other cases it may not be that obvious and you'll find yourself in a game of jumping beans. You sit down, and someone says, sorry that seat's taken, you stand up. You sit down, and someone else says that seat's taken. You jump up. We will sit towards the front on the right side, and of course we'll try to save seats, but there are no guarantees :)

You'll also hear a low hum buzzing across the congregation. Yes, in most cases this is the hushed shuckling (the exercise of swaying back and forth while reading Hebrew out loud) of congregants deep in prayer. But, in other cases it's the low hush of conversation. This is not encouraged, of course. And you might hear some shushing others. I don't know if it's a case where the older set doesn't realize that their whispers are really just breathy screams, or if people think that since most of the service is chanted in Hebrew their conversations will be drowned out by the davening (another word for swaying back and forth while reading Hebrew out loud).

After services, and the crowd is ravishingly hungry, the congregation makes their way to the social hall for the Kiddush -- the name for the light lunch served following the service. I recommend making your way quickly to get in line, and finding a seat. There's nothing like being part of the 200-plus, post-services crowd politely jockeying their way to get a nibble of kugel (sweet noodle casserole), or a bite of a blintz (crepe-like casserole).

Once you've had your nosh (light snack), you may notice that a crowd of congregants are standing in a huddle poking their heads in and out. No, this isn't a post lunch prayer. No, this isn't a ritual dance. This bird-like, pecking motion signals that the crowd is surveying the selection of sweets from the dessert table. What's happening is this: One person is looking in to see what the assortment has to offer. Another person is looking out to see if their spouse notices they've snuck some snickerdoodles before coming back to the table. Yet another person is looking in and asking the person on the opposite side of the table what's down there and if they know who made it.

So there you have it. The behind the scenes. I would imagine every congregation, Jewish or otherwise, has its idiosyncrasies. I wouldn't have it any other way.

What's He Talking About?

Chanting away in Hebrew for some sounds melodic, for others monotone, and even a bit gutteral. But, one question the incessant chanting begs is, "What are they talking about"?

I've just finished writing the program that we'll share at the service to help those who may not be familiar with a Jewish service, become more familiar with the basics. When I finished up the Cliff Notes, I realized I'd barely scratched the surface. As Indigo Montoya said in the movie the Princess Bride, "Let me explain...wait we don't have enough time, let me sum up."

At the end of the service Andrew will deliver a D'var Torah, or sermon reflecting on what the section he read means and what it can teach the congregation. His Torah portion (the story he is chanting in Hebrew) is called Vayachi. The portion opens with Jacob addressing his sons as he lays down on his death bed. Jacob addresses each of the sons and shares what he feels are their gifts and their misgivings. He discusses where he would like to be burried and the importance of his faith.

 If you saw the play, Joseph and the Amazing Technocolor Dreamcoat, you'll remember that Joseph's brothers are jealous of the attention Jacob pays and throw him in a pit to die. In the section Andrew is reading from this event has already taken place and Joseph chooses to forgive his brothers. He does so as a form of Shalom Bayit, or peace in the home. Figuring what's done is done and it is now time to move forward.

Heavy topic for a 12 year old to wrestle with. You'll hear Andrew dig into the concept of Shalom Bayit as well as honesty, and when is it okay to stretch the truth. A terrific topic for him to consider as he enters his teen years. When do you decide to tell your parents about the trouble you and your friends got into, and when do you choose not to. What are the consequences? And when should you hold your tongue and not say anything at all. If I'm wearing an ugly shirt, is it really necessary to tell me how awful I look, or should you just accept it say nothing and move on?

Consider this your Torah teaser. If you'd like to learn more about what Andrew is talking about, I'm including a few links that will help provide more familiarity.


Wikipedia -- Vayechi

Torah.org -- Vayechi

Putting G-d on the Guest List

I recently read a book called, "Putting G-d on the Guest List", by Jeffrey K. Salkin. In the book, he writes that many Jewish people are not entirely comfortable talking about G-d. I'm in that camp. So as I talk about HIM, I'm renaming HIM, Henry. Weird, I guess, but more comfortable for me.

Well before Andrew was born, Henry was an active part of Danny and my life. Over the years, I can remember having a chat, sharing a secret, pleading for help, begging, promising or just plain confiding in Henry. My question, though, is how do you introduce your kid to someone whom you can't see, you can't hear and you're not too comfortable talking about?

Now forgive me for sounding like Tevya from the movie "Fiddler on the Roof", but he did have it right when he said a Jew's connection to Henry is through their observance of Jewish tradition. And, like Tevya who asks, "So when did this tradition get started?" I repeat his response, " I don't know." But tradition is what connects us through the generations and across the world.

We've done our best to observe Jewish traditions such as holidays and Shabbat (Friday night). We've tried our best to instill our commitment to the Jewish community by attending events that support our synagogue and Jews in the broader community. We've shared the culture of Judaism by introducing customary foods like chopped liver and herring, and phrases from Yiddish and Hebrew that we can remember.

These activities are all the ways we've introduced Judaism to Andrew. However, introducing Henry to Andrew in large part has been through our relationships with family and friends, Jewish and non Jewish.

Hearing the reminiscent stories from our family, bring the existence of Henry to life. My mom often tells us a wonderful story about how each Shabbat, when she was growing up, she'd watch her mother make chicken soup from scratch.  The story begins with how her mom would pluck the feathers off the chicken in their backyard, and end with her mom schlepping (Yiddish for carrying with a lot of strength) a huge vat of soup up the stairs from the basement to share with my mom's dad, brother and sisters, and Aunts and Uncles. No wonder my mom uses the Yiddish word  Oy! so often! I can't say I ever saw my mom schlep soup from our basement. However, I've never felt more aware of Henry than when we eat chicken soup as a family and hear that story. Memories like this one bring to life the Hebrew phrase L'Dor V Dor, which means from generation to generation.

Our friends have also helped with introductions. Danny and I didn't grow up in the Twin Cities, but today we don't feel like outsiders. We are blessed with forever friends who've welcomed us into their homes for the holidays, and shared their special traditions. Henry doesn't come up a lot in our conversations, but we all know he's present.

Our non-Jewish friends have been just as important. They've accepted us for who we are, and recognize, respect and celebrate our traditions. We are so blessed to have you all in our lives.

So as I work on the seating chart for Saturday night, I'm not going to worry about where Henry's going to sit. Suffice it to say HE's on the list and present at our event.

Imagine that!

Dear 23-year-old Andrew;

As I write this, your Bar Mitzvah is just three short weeks away. Friends and family are sending back their RSVPs, and we are sitting back and taking a breather before the next round of planning and preparing ramp up.

For the 100 days leading up to your milestone mitzvah, I've been writing a series of stories and reflections. But, I think it would also be fun to consider and predict what the next 12 may be like.

...I imagine you and your father still steal every free minute to talk sports, watch sports, and play sports

...I imagine you and Jordan will continue to giggle, tease, hang with the neighbor kids and take care of each other

...I imagine that similar to the last 12 years, Josh Levitt will continue to be a forever friend that will be important to you for the next many years.

...I imagine you might have a few crushes and a few heart aches

...I imagine you'll ace a few tests, and struggle through a few others

...I imagine that basketball, baseball, Herzl camp, and school plays will continue to mark the rites of the seasons

...I cautiously imagine you getting your driver's license

...I hesitantly imagine you thinking about where you will ultimately go to college...possibly Duke? possibly Syracuse?

...I find myself trying not to imagine what it would be like when you graduate from high school and make that leap to leave for college

I can, and I can't wait to see how these next 12 years unfold. I can and I can't imagine what it will be like. What I do know for certain is that your Dad and I could not be more proud...for more reasons than you would ever imagine!

What NOT? To Wear

Ever have the dream where you wake up and you realize you slept through your alarm, and you're scheduled to take a final college exam of which class you haven't attended all quarter, and you rush out the door realizing you don't know which building or floor the class is held, and without a lot of good judgment you decide that finding a shirt to wear isn't necessary, since you are so late....ummm....you haven't had that dream? Well....umm...okay.

I have.

I don't dare ask Andrew if he's having similar dreams as he thinks about getting up to read Torah. So, rather than asking him. I figure it's time to go shopping for his official Bar Mitzvah wardrobe.

I didn't budget for a family stylist. So, to gather ideas, I've been secretly stealing glances at the kids delivering their parshat on Saturday morning, as well as those kids and adults attending. Come on, we all do it. We all take a few mental notes as we get prepared for our own events. Of course going to services is a religious experience, but those few months leading up to your own event are truly recognisance missions.

With mental notes relayed, sizes in hand, boy in tow, Danny takes Andrew and embarks on a father-son bonding mission to get a well-fitted suit. I got the cliff notes of their trip:

• Really nice guy waited on them



• Guy knew exactly what they would like, and quickly brought over options



• Andrew picked out what he liked, and it's now in for tailoring, with room to grow



• The guys came home with a bag that carried two ties - one for Friday and one for Saturday -- the suit will be ready well before the big day

Andrew is outfitted to look like a man, and Danny tells me he looks like a mentsch (Yiddish for clean cut, well behaved young man). While I don't know "who" he's wearing, I do know it's a pinstripe blue suit.

So now on to dress the rest of the family. Friday night is Shabbas Sheik, which means conservative and comfortable. I'll probably wear a skirt, Danny, Andrew and Jordan a suit. If only someone would invent the dress- up snuggy (that blanket thing with sleeves). I find that Friday's are a day when I want to curl up with the boys, watch a movie and stare into space. Our friend Scot and I refer to this far away, sometimes absent look as Friday face. But, alas the dress- up snuggy is not to be.

Saturday morning, again is conservative and comfortable. I'm close to finding an outfit. Either I'll wear a suit, or a cozy sweater dress. Danny, Andrew and Jordan will all be in suits. Guys have it so easy!

Saturday night is dressy casual. To which I would normally say, what the heck does that mean? Well, if I had to define it, I would say it's not so formal that you need to wear an evening gown, but not so casual that you could get away with jeans. Danny will probably wear dress pants and a sports coat, the verdict is still out for Andrew and Jordan, but it will probably be dress pants and a funky dressy shirt. Jordan usually wears his signature pageboy hat, but we'll see where the wind takes him.

Sunday morning? Ultra casual. Funny, though, because I'm looking to buy a nice sweat outfit. I say funny, because by describing the attire as ultra casual you would think this wouldn't prompt me to go in search for an outfit. Not exactly, but there is not need to dress on ceremony for this meal.

So there you have it. Hopefully, the Geller family will be well outfitted, which will encourage us all to sleep restfully with dreams where we are on time, prepared, in the right placed, and fully clothed.

Lila Tov (Good night!)

Tales of Bar Zilla

We've all seen or heard of the crazy reality show Bridezilla, where you watch a young and hopefull bride turn into a raging diva that expects nothing but perfection. If that's the case for weddings, what is the case for Bar Mitzvahs? Does the family who is preparing for this milestone also take on a zilla, only in this case they become Bar Zillas?

Evidence of the Bar Zilla creeps into the everyday routing. It doesn't start fully blown out. It doesn't start out with an obsession with invitations, and hotel accommodations, and party themes. No, it starts out simply with a wish and a hope that your family can make it into town, and that your child takes his hebrew studies seriously. But slowly, the Zilla creeps in. It may start when you get your date and begin to think about where you want to host the party. Or it may begin when you start attending other friends' and families' mitzvah events.

In my case it started when I began assembling the invitations, which will come as no surprise to anyone following this blog. Bar Zilla grabbed hold during those assembly moments and took over, in full force. No longer was this an event to mark a milestone in my son's journey through Judiasm. No, this was a full blown mid-life crisis to which sending invitations signaled the concrete reality that the future was now the present.

So how do you grab back onto reality? How do you remind your self that in the end, your kid is still going to be a Bar Mitzvah, even if you decide to have or not have a centerpiece on the table for the Saturday night party?

Hearing from so many of you who are following my little stories are grounding moments for me. I've heard from people whom I haven't talked to on a regular basis in years. You've shared your memories and some have even shared some great photos from the past! These exchanges are what grounds me. When it's all said and done, what we'll talk about is how simchas like this one brings families and friends together. How simchas like this one gives permission to connect and reconnect. Not everyone can attend. That's okay. Either way you are present in our hearts.

I know another Bar Zilla moment will creep up again. But, I find comfort in knowing that you are all providing so much support. So please accept my appreciation and thank you for listening... or eh...reading along.

Watch your Mailboxes!

Okay...as promised, here's what happened with the invitations...put to song, of course!

(sung to the Passover Sedar song Dayenu. Dayenu means, it would have been sufficient)


If the invitations had matched Andrew's Talis, but didn't need to be handmade. Dayenu!


If the invitations were handmade, but didn't need to be cut and pasted together. Dayenu!


If the invitations were cut and pasted together, but didn't need be printed by a professional. Dayenu!


If the invitations were printed by a professional, but didn't need to be reprinted when they forgot to print Andrew's name in Hebrew. Dayenu


If the invitations were reprinted with Andrew's Hebrew name, but didn't require a village of friends and family to help assemble. Dayenu!


If the invitations were assembled by a wonderful village of friends and family, but didn't require address labels. Dayenu


If theinvitations used address labels, but Andrew didn't insist on adding all of his friends at school and SMP and Talmud Torah and neighbors and the state of Israel. Dayenu!

Okay...you get the idea.


This year we mailed the invitations, next year we'll see you all at the Bar Mitzvah!

If I were a rich (wo)MAN

A few years ago, Andrew asked if we were rich. I asked him, what do you mean? He said, well one of my friends says we must be really rich because we have a Computer and a PlayStation. I thought about this for a minute. And then decided to reply, no...we just really like to collect things with screens.

But I got to thinking about his question. What truly makes a person rich? I've met "wealthy" people whose hearts have been foreclosed on by friends or family. I've met many "poor" people who live life to the fullest by enjoying the gifts of friendship and love.

If I had that moment back. If Andrew asked me that question again. I'd simply say, yes. We are exceptionally rich. Rich with love, family and friends.

I've never felt wealthier than I do today as the RSVPs make their way back to us in the mail. To know that family and friends from across the country are making the trek, is more than humbling.

Here are a few of the highlights:

• Our New Jersey cousins added the Bar Mitzvah to their honeymoon itinerary. Note that they start out in the Bahamas!


• My cousin Jessica is coming in a day early to schlepp around with us! We are thrilled to have her!


• My cousin Ryan in Denver is doing bench presses in preparation for lifting the Torah -- well, I don't know that he's really weight training, but we are so happy to have him do the honor!


• One of our dearest friends told us they were supposed to be in China for work, and that they rearranged the trip so they could be at our event.


• We are grateful for our family in Canada who are going to drive down for our event!


• While not everyone is able to be at our simcha (Hebrew for event), they will be there in spirit!

So yes, we are rich. We are exceptionally rich. We have a family who loves us, forever friends whom we can count on and who hopefully know that they can always count on us, and we have each other.

Striking the Right Tone

Throughout our lives, I believe, people are on a constant path to find their voice. Watching your child find theirs is the most special experience a parent can witness. Here are some of the wonderful ways Andrew has made his voice known over the past 12 years.

3 months
Andrew found out he had a voice when he was three months old. When he began to verbalize sounds he would stare intently, and with great expression he would make the ooo and owww and ohhh sounds. In fact, when we went in for his intake meeting for daycare he had a lot to “say”.

As the teacher asked about his habits, I rested Andrew in a sitting position on top of a reading table in the Adath library. He looked intensely at the teacher and began to vocalize, as the teacher and I talked about his habits.

You would have thought he was running the conversation. He locked eyes with the teacher, and for all I know he was trying to tell her…“I take two naps a day, I prefer to swing for at least a half hour, I’m not eating solids, but I do watch my parents when they eat at our kitchen table. I like to have books read to me. Snuggles and hugs are a must.” When we were finally able to finish up the meeting, he stopped as well.

24 months
Andrew had a lot of ear infections that led to having tubes put in his ears and the removal of both his tonsils and adnoids. Because of this, his speech was a little delayed and we worked with a speech therapist to help clear up his language. This didn’t stop him from talking, but it did make it hard for him to be understood. Remarkably, after about a year of relearning sounds, he began to deliver proper pronunciations. He was determined, you could see it in his intense concentration during the classes. He’s been going a mile a minute ever since.

8 years old
Andrew had the unique opportunity in Denver to lead a prayer during our cousin Ryan's Bar Mitzvah. The prayer was delivered responsively and required Andrew to learn how to pronounce, read and sing quite a few lines in Hebrew. Once again, Andrew was diligent. He listened to the tape that was provided in advance of the event. He worked with our dear friend and Hebrew teacher, Heidi Roston, to read the words and sing the melody. And when he got up to lead, everyone remarked how well he did, and that he sounded like a little sicken (birdie in Yiddish). At 8 he understood this was important and he worked hard to master the task.

12 almost 13 years old
Today, Andrew's voice is going through a lot of changes. What used to be a soft, yet loud, squeak, is now a low, still loud, baratone. When he calls home, or talks with his friends or practices his parsha, I find myself taking a double take. Yep, that's my kid, who doesn't sound too much like a kid any more.

Some things don't change, though. He continues to make himself heard, whether that's singing a song during his middle school play, or groaning when he doesn't want to do his homework. He's still intent with his words, whether that's engaging in a lively debate about whether Wisconsin will make it to the Rose Bowl, or telling me a joke that puts me into a fit of giggles. He continues to be diligent, as he works to master the words in the Torah, Haftorah and D'var Torah (speech in English reflecting on what he read in Hebrew).

It's not for me to say when Andrew will find his voice, or what that voice will sound like. But, I will tell you that I love his accent. Within his voice today, I hear strength, compassion, irony at times, opinion, love and friendship.

"There is a voice inside of you, that whispers all day long, 'I feel this is right for me, I know that this is wrong.' No teacher, preacher, parent, friend ... or wise man can decide, what's right for you--just listen, to the voice that speaks inside." ~Shel Silverstein, "The Voice"