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The Miracle of 42 Chickpeas [Jun. 4th, 2016|12:27 am]
My Wednesday night guests ate all of the hummus, but I still had plenty of bagels and crudités left. Shopping didn't feel appropriate, so I decided to substitute homemade guacamole for the Thursday night Shivah gathering. After we said Kaddish, I started setting out the snacks, and there was a whole tub of exactly the same hummus I'd gotten earlier in the week. It could have been brought by a guest, but just for a second it felt providentially provided.

And there are more memories streaming in today. Recalling the trip around 1982 that Dad and I took to New York. We stayed at Uncle Fred's house, where my grandmother was also living at the time. Fred the youngest of dad's brothers and sisters was a US postal worker. Then we drove to Westchester to see Uncle Herb, the oldest of the four boys. He was a structural engineer who loved to talk about the stock market. There was snow on the ground, and since I'd learned to drive in San Diego, my dad did all of the driving. I knew from experience that these family trips were mostly about seeing the inside of living rooms and sitting around kitchen tables, so I'd made a deal with my dad that if I went on this trip, we would do one genuine sight-seeing activity. The sight-seeing activity that I wanted was a real Broadway show. Alas, not alas at all, David Copperfield was sold out, and I got tickets to a revival of 42nd Street. My dad tried to talk me out of going at the last minute, but he didn't want to reimburse me for the tickets, and nor did he want to put me on a subway to navigate NYC alone in the icy February weather. We went to Nathan's Famous -funny how that name keeps popping up in this story- where I ordered raw clams. Then on to the show, which was every bit as good as I'd dreamed. Dad had a great time too, and he was singing bits of the songs for the rest of the trip. All of the songs that is, except for "Shuffle Off to Buffalo". He had fallen asleep and missed that number. In fact, he didn't believe me that it had been included. After the show, I met my maternal grandfather "under the clock in Times Square". I had dinner with my Bayside Queens grandparents, and then they drove me back to Uncle Fred's in Long Island. When we got there, Nana Ruth (Dad and Fred's mom) rushed around to open a new giant tin of Stella Doro cookies and and to make tea. Even though my parents weren't together any more, the grandparents from both sides were able to be sociable.

[User Picture]From: pr1ss
2016-06-04 08:04 am (UTC)

Not Dickens

Just to clarify: The David Copperfield in question was not a Dickensian drama, it was an overly emotional magician.
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