Playing Ghost

Yesterday, my mother boarded an El Al flight to join my brother and his family in Israel for the holiday. She was so relieved not to have to do any Pesach cleaning or cooking of her own. When I was little, preparing for Pesach was a major headache for my Mom. With 5 kids, a full time job, and barely enough money to cover the added costs, she had to work long into the night to get everything ready on time. To add insult to injury, my father a"h, who tended to get very jittery and irritable before holidays, would rush around the kitchen trying to help, which ticked her off even further. We children knew to stay out of the kitchen before the inevitable meltdown occurred. One year, this took the form of my mother throwing a wet sponge at my father's head; another time, she threatened to drown him in the chicken soup if he didn't get out of her way. My father, who loved my mother more than anything in the world, always looked shocked and hurt and would protest feebly that he was just trying to help. We would shake our heads sadly and gently lead my dad out of the kitchen, marveling that after all these years he still hadn't learned his lesson.

Eventually my Mom would declare the kitchen "finished" and we would all assemble in the living room to prepare for Bedikat Chametz (searching for chametz) just before midnight. By this point, my mother was so exhausted and so eager to get the kids to bed that she would urge my father to "stop with the narishkeit already and just go play ghost". As my father wandered around the dark house clutching a lit candle and looking for the 10 pieces of bread that we had hid moments earlier, my mother would mutter darkly under her breath. The moment the ceremony was over, we were rushed off to bed.

My siblings and I never viewed these proceedings as being unpleasant or traumatic. We thought the whole process was funny, and sometimes we would lay bets as to how long it would take before my mother started threatening my father with a dishwater bath. Now as adults, all 5 of us still refer to Bedikat Chametz as "playing ghost". I thought of my parents last night as I watched Flash lead his sisters around the house looking for the 10 pieces of bread. As they came downstairs, Supermangirl excitedly announced "Ma, we did really great this year! We found eleven pieces of bread!" Flash shook his head in exasperation (apparently the girls had hidden 11 pieces instead of the required 10) but all I thought was "a new generation, but still the same old chaos".

I hope you all enjoyed playing ghost in your houses, and that you and your families are able to leave the chaos of preparation behind and enjoy a peaceful and stress-free holiday.

Chag Sameach!!!