Every year around this time I get a call from my old man reminding me about my mothers yertzeit so I make it to shul to say kadesh. Being a cook doesn’t make things any easier when it comes to getting up in the morning or actually making it… to shul. Last night amidst an insane dinner rush (half a dozen tickets deep) I had to run out for maariv, but when my alarm went off this morning I didn’t even hear it and was jolted awake an hour after it first began buzzing,
I felt pretty crappy to say the least. Crappy because I had just missed a chance to say kadesh numerous times to honor my mother and to bring some scotch to shul so we could make l’chaims (what’s the point of this practice anyway) and sit in rush hour with a buzz.
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