September 23rd, 2023
Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, was last Saturday. It is now the year 5784 on the Jewish calendar. I’m glad because 5783 was kind of a bitch.
Generally, I am not a big fan of New Year’s celebrations. Most of the time there is no discernible difference between December 31st and January 1st. The biggest change between one year and the next is that I write the wrong year on checks for several weeks. The New Year’s Eve parties hold no attraction for me. They always seem like forced gaiety. I am often asleep in bed well before midnight strikes. When I wake up early on the first of January, I sense that I didn’t miss anything important.
Somehow, it’s different with Rosh Hashanah, at least it was this year. This time I was longing for the end of the old year, any old year. The last twelve months, on anybody’s calendar, have been difficult for me. I am happy that they are over, and that there is the possibility of a new start. Rosh Hashanah seemed like a suitable beginning.
I wanted to go to the service at the synagogue. It’s a big deal. The shofar is blown and there are special prayers. I didn’t make it. That morning I was at several different playgrounds with my toddler grandson, Asher. By the time I got the boy home, I was exhausted. I was tired, but content. My time with Asher was my blessing for Rosh Hashanah, and what better way to start a new year than to be with somebody you love?
We’ll see what 5784 brings. I hope only good things.
If not, well, I can start another new year in 2024.
Frank is Emptiness 