Years ago when my recently widow Aunt came to visit us; she had left us with a parting gift; coffee mugs. I love coffee mugs. I’m a big believer that the coffee tastes better in a mug more than anything else. Twelve mugs; yellow ribbed with red on the inside, green with blue insides, and all other color combinations. We used half of the cups for everyday which of course saw the ways of most of mugs, and half we saved for Pesach. Of course those are the only ones that are left.
When we now take out those mugs; I know Pesach has arrived. But I also remember the excitement of seeing my Aunt in that unique visit. My sixteen year old was the baby then; which I remember my still teary eyed widow Aunt greeted her with a bit of awe. The passing down of the generation moved her and she had cried as she held her. The seeing of the next generation had given her “nechama” consolation.
Pesach is the remembrance of our becoming a people. The Seder and its consecutive days are used to bring each generation into the new fold. My mugs for me have become the stimulant (besides the legal drug that we use them for) to remember the people we have come from.
As my husband and I share a cup of coffee before all the grandchildren are up; who are spread out on mattresses strewed around the house, we can enjoy that “ahh” moment – the good taste of coffee intermingle with generational naches.