Today is Tu B’shvat, a holiday named quite prosaically for its calendar date. But the theme -- celebrating the trees -- is anything but. For me, the poetry is amplified by Tu B’shvat coinciding with the week of my grandmother’s yahrtzeit.
When we joined a synagogue a few years ago, I made sure to enter my Babba Rosie’s yahrtzeit date in the shul calendar, despite not being considered a primary mourner (a role not typically extended to grandchildren of the deceased). Nevertheless, I cherish coming to shul with my kids so I can recite kaddish in my Babba’s memory, and so they can hear her name read from the bima. Our daughter was named after my Babba Rosie. We celebrated Rory’s first birthday as a tribute to her great-grandmother’s memory: the colour scheme was purple, my Babba’s favourite colour, and recipes came from Eaton’s The Grill Room cookbook. My Babba loved stopping for a bite at The Grill Room in Eaton’s-Portage Avenue after scouring the aisles for the perfect bargain.
Family stories are the stuff of family connection. But hardly anyone else in Ottawa knew my Babba. Sixteen years ago, my husband and I relocated from Vancouver (where I had moved as a teen from Winnipeg) to Washingon, DC and then to Ottawa, where I accepted a faculty position at Carleton University.
Ten years and two kids later, it’s important to us to make roots. It’s important that our kids feel a sense of connection to Ottawa, even if they have to travel thousands of miles to visit their grandparents, aunts, uncles and most of their cousins.
Tu B’shvat is a wonderful opportunity to think about how we make roots, and successfully nurture them. But is it possible to feel rooted in a place that’s not your home town? Does nostalgia, fuelled by time and the physical distance of relocation, obscure a natural feeling of belonging? It’s not always easy, but I think that a sense of day-to-day mindfulness and a regular dose of gratitude can shore up a sense of place.
In Ottawa, my husband and I chose to buy a home in a neighbourhood that has a very conscious sense of place. The Glebe has a marked sense of togetherness and purpose. The grocers, shops and cafes on Bank Street convey a small-town atmosphere, and enthusiastic public schools centered around a vibrant community centre give children a feeling of ownership over their area. Soon after, we helped found a chavurah -- a group of six families that meets monthly to celebrate shabbat and havdalah. Seven years later our group has grown from five kids to twelve. The oldest of the lot recently celebrated her Bat Mitzvah, and we have barely skipped a month in over seven years.
From the time our kids were toddlers, the SJCC had become a second home to us. There, I have found myself drawn to lay leadership positions to support a gathering spot that I think is superb for engendering a sense of community, heritage, and physical and social wellness. Our shul gives our kids yet another important point of contact and community. As they observe my comings and goings, they are also learning that keeping a shul running takes commitment, including serving on committees and training to lead services.
While we often travel to Vancouver for Passover, we make clear to our kids that our home -- with a wide array of friends spanning various generations -- is meant to be a hub of gathering and celebration, even if far from much family, and even if the high holiday season sometimes feels onerous in its intensity and frequency of the festivals. Dragging our sukkah boards and bolts from the garage each fall reminds them that structures can be temporary, but with some effort, they can convey a sense of home and hospitality.
I hope my children grow up feeling a sense of place and belonging in their neighbourhood, in their shul, at the SJCC and of course in their own home. This Tu B’shvat, even though there is hardly a hint of green to be seen in wintry Ottawa, I will be thinking of those stately yet precious artifacts of nature: the trees that surround us and which will sprout leaves in a few short months. I will say kaddish in memory of my Babba Rosie. And I will continue to cultivate a sense of mindfulness and gratitude to help strengthen the young roots that connect my family and I to our community.
**A version of this article appeared in this week's Ottawa Jewish Bulletin.
No comments:
Post a Comment