For many, Lag B'Omer is very different from what they are used to. Bonfires are banned throughout the country. The only exception are the 3 bonfires at Meron that have been authorized by the Government. As far as I have seen the going rate to spend 10 minutes flying over the bonfires are between 499 NIS and $1400 US.
Lag B'Omer is traditionally a school vacation day. I have yet to find a person who has been able to explain why. The head of the teachers union has been adamant that the teachers were not going to give up any vacation days this year, outside the 9 they sacrificed when Pesach vacation started 9 days early. We received a message from the City of Haifa this afternoon. In order to keep the Ganim open tomorrow, they will be operating with 2 sayats (assistants) and no ganenet. Channah has the day off from school.
When I was a kid, I was told that in Israel on Lag B'Omer kids went into the forests to play with bows and arrows. I have no idea where this idea originated but Channah was upset at the suggestion that it was something that was ever done.
I stepped out onto my mirpeset to daven mincha and was disappointed to be greeted with the harsh smell of smoke of Lag B'omer. Apparently the police have been out in full force to enforce the ban and to stop BBQ from being used in place of bonfires. Someone in our community was visited by the police this evening. Their kids had taken the grill off of their BBQ. As they were cooking marshmallows and hot dogs, the police were satisfied it was not a makeshift bonfire and went on their way.
While my mind is focused on the hear and now, I find my brain wondering back to the same time last year. Last year, on Erev Lag B'Omer afternoon, my flight landed in Toronto. I spent a little bit of time answering my drivers questions about Israel and the Peace Process. After a while, the conversation died out and the taxi driver turned on the radio. The news was filled with stories of someone being hit by a car and a school evacuation due to a bomb threat that was found in a suitcase with a note claiming there were more suitcases with bombs inside. I couldn't help but think about how people think Israel is dangerous and how could anyone with that attitude live in such a violent city.
I finally arrived at my Aunt's house around an hour before mincha. My Uncle had tasked me with two requests for his death. He wanted me to take care of davening and say kaddish for the year. Instead of being home, making sure all windows and doors were sealed tight, I was the shaliach tzibur and saying kaddish. A good part of that trip was making sure I was at shul to say kaddish along side my father. It caused some interesting moments, especially since they liked treating me like I did have a chiuv, even when I didn't. The convenient exception being Rosh Chodesh, when they had me daven because I didn't have a chiuv.
In the end my parents stepped in to protect my mental health and rescinded their permission, allowing me to say kaddish. I had someone who my Uncle would have approved of make sure it was taken care of. I would never have believed that a pandemic could wipe out plans for something so simple.
Yesterday, was his Yahrziet. My cousin did a great job of orchestrating a Zoom get together of friends and family, who have felt the loss of my Uncle. It wasn't easy, especially with the number of people having their first introduction to the technology. Hoodie got so excited when she realized my parents were on the screen. She kept jumping up and down and yelling 'Aidy and Mom' She had her mind blown when my parents Facetimed right afterwards. Today she was still going around telling us that 'Bubbie, Zaidy omputer.' Shlomo kept picking out people he knew from our recent trip to Toronto along with the Israeli cousins. He also became obsessed with 'Rabbi Joe', who he must have asked about 60 times, who he was. I think it was the beard. It was also a chance to 'introduce cousins' that Channah doesn't necessarily know but are some of the people that come to mind if I have to describe who is 'My Family.'
Aside from running the get together well, my cousin spoke well about her father. She helped bring up a lot of memories, that I just couldn't bring myself to share in a coherent fashion. I have found myself thinking about our walks to shul, his career advice, Pesach seders, helping put up the succah every year, forcing my cousin and I to learn to read benching, planting tomatoes, playing chess, a younger Channah refusing to talk to him in Hebrew because of the accent, finding Free Torah High. If you beat him playing a game, you knew you beat him and it wasn't because he let you win. No matter what I did, I knew I was going to be challenged. In hind sight he wasn't always right and I didn't always listen. He cared and would always push you to your limits. He always expected everyone around him to strive for their best. He also wasn't afraid to share, if he made a mistake.
There is one memory that my cousin jogged up that has given me something to contemplate. She said he went to Yeshiva and then he went to a kibbutz. He never told me he went to Yeshiva. He used to love telling me about the kibbutz. When he described what it was like milking a cow, it was as if he had transported himself back to that place and time.
I now own a home in Israel. In a few weeks we will be moving. I can't help but to think that it would be something that would make him proud and connects us to many occasions we spent together.
May all those who feel his loss, find strength and comfort. May his Neshama have an Aliyah.
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