Our Turn to Host Rosh Hashanah
By J. Kott-Wolle
Oil on Canvas, 16x20, painted 2019
Original photograph taken - 2010
I have this theory that you are not officially a grown up until it is your turn to start hosting the family for holiday observances. As the youngest in my family, I got away with never having to host a holiday meal until I was well into my adult life. But then the Toronto shul where my husband’s parents belonged had shut down and they weren’t sure where they would go to services for the High Holidays. Naturally, I invited them to travel to our shul and be our guests. I saw this as a significant moment in my adult life. The torch had been passed to me – it was time to finally grow up and make Rosh Hashanah dinner at my house. I was thrilled that Bubba Sara, at 95, was willing and able to travel to Chicago to be with us. I love this image – four generations together bringing in the Jewish new year of 5771. The best part was when we cooked the meal. Bubba was in charge of the gefilte fish and the apples and honey, my mother-in-law made the chicken soup and matzo balls. I was reasonably confident that my brisket would be tasty enough to serve to these two women who had hosted countless delicious holiday meals around their dining room tables. It was a priceless experience and we never had the opportunity to do it together like that again. Bubba became too frail to travel after that year.