Holiday Wrap-up: Interfaith Issues and New Year's Hopes

I used to feel that sluggish, deeply dissatisfied, post-holiday let-down every year after Christmas and New Year's. I feel none of that this year. Instead, I am pleased to have the holidays over and done with. Not that we had a bad time, mind you. It's just that I'm much more an observer than a true participant in Christmas these days, and staying on the periphery like that keeps the season not only more enjoyable but also more in perspective.

We had a nice Hanukkah together -- it seems like ages ago by now. A note on Hanukkah, if for no other purpose than to remind myself for next year: Those really cheap gifts purchased for the last six nights of Hanukkah should be even cheaper next time. Like three for a dollar cheap. Or homemade cheap. The kids will get plenty of stuff from other people before January rolls around, whether we like it or not.

One more Hanukkah note: The super cheap Hanukkah candles we bought were cheap for a reason. They were not only slightly small for our menorah, but they also were not straight. They looked as if they needed Viagra. And anything that causes me to think of genitalia during holiday candle lighting, no matter the holiday's level of religious significance, cannot be good.

Now on to Christmas. All in all, things went very well. My mother's behavior toward my husband was friendly. I think she was in a particularly good mood because the kids and I visited her church with her on Christmas Eve morning. Sure, my son spent most of the service either crying or plugging his ears (he's not big on loud music and new things), and he asked loudly, "Can we go yet?" every time there was a quiet moment. But my mother still seemed happy.

In the parking lot of the church, another interesting thing happened. I overheard that my mother's best friend had converted to Islam. Although I had suspected she had been wanting to convert for a long time (her husband and children are Muslim), I was surprised to hear the news from someone other than my mother, especially since I ask about this particular friend frequently since the death of one of her children. Later, I asked my mom if I had heard right. Yes, she said. Her friend had converted over the summer. "Interesting," I told my mother. "I saw that coming a while back." My mother said nothing.

My mother's silence wasn't disapproval of her friend's conversion; it was apparent from the conversation I had overheard that my mom was supportive of her friend and perhaps even a bit protective of her. So why had she not mentioned it to me? And then it hit me. Whether my mother saw her friend's conversion coming or not, she's not so blind that she can't see the writing on the wall now. I think she suspects I will convert and fears/dreads that day; she wasn't about to mention another interfaith spouse's conversion to me and push me further in that direction.

Hm. So while I still worry about hurting my mother, I no longer worry about shocking her.
The topic of interfaith marriage and religion had already been brought up, so I asked my mother whether the people at church knew my kids were Jewish. I was surprised when she said yes, she had told the other women in her Sunday school class. Somehow I figured she was keeping that fact to herself, hoping we would change our minds. My mother is generally a very private person, so I find it comforting that she has confided in these women and has a support network. I feel more free to make the decisions I want to now that I know my mother won't suffer in silence.

And that leads me to New Year's. I'm not one for resolutions, really. And so I will stop short of pronouncing that I will most definitely speak with the rabbi. I will say I'm more inclined to now than I was. And I'll avoid all those eat right/exercise resolutions as well, even though I would like to be healthier. I was ready to join the Y even, until I found out the price. (How in the world do people afford to go there?) So I'll have to come up with a better plan.

I started off the new year at a friend's brunch this morning. There were so many bright and articulate people there, and all of them friendly. My speech wasn't too hot today, and I found myself keeping to myself, reading books quietly to the toddlers who seemed all to converge on my ample lap; somehow that was safer than the grown-up conversation. It didn't help that I hit my head on the dining room's chandelier as I was filling my plate, causing a very loud clinking and clanging, and voila, yours truly, right there in the spotlight. So I wasn't quite ready to open my mouth and and feel foolish again. There'll be plenty of time for that, though. It's only January 1st.