Memories... of the way things used to be

First night of Chanukah tonight. I will climb over all the stored boxes and books, shlep the menorah out, polish it up and prepare for lighting the first candle tonight. So many memories, so many years and all of them really heartwarming and filled with longing and nostalgia.

In years past I would scour the shops for eight nights worth of presents for both my kids. I would always make potato latkes and there were never enough, so each year I would make more - and there were still never enough. This year, like last year, will be different since both of my children are living in California. My son is not here to do his usual job of polishing the menorah and my daughter is not here to gossip and keep me company while I grate the potatoes for the latkes. (No one can ever convince me that a food processor can grate the potatoes to the right consistency and the latkes just don't taste the same without that tiny bit of grated knuckle added!)

My childhood memories of Chanukah are of aged relatives coming and giving me small amounts of money (Chanukah gelt) and the new very American arrival in our apartment of an electric menorah. This was, to my parents, the height of modernity. Every night, instead of lighting a new candle, you simply screwed in another orange flame-shaped light bulb. Oh, the wonder of it! Much better than the wonky Israeli menorah we had used for most of my childhood, so clean and efficient. America was truly a land of miracles. My mother made plates of delicious latkes and there were also never enough.

Last year we shared Chanukah with our children via the wonders of new technology. No, not with an electric menorah, but through the exchange of photos of each nights'
candle lighting. In California, my two fantastically creative offspring made a menorah from plumbing tubing and metal bits and posted their photos on the net. Not the same as sharing warm latkes and searching out the old siddur to find the dog-eared page for Chanukah, but so sweet and new and the best it can be right now.

So, I'm off to buy potatoes and clean the counters of plaster dust so the latkes can get made, the menorah and get the camera ready to share Chanukah again. Sadly, this year there will probably be more than enough latkes. We're all watching weight, cholesterol, fried foods, salt and will only allow ourselves a few latkes, but at least the warmth and memories and love are limitless.