By Natalie Amar Many years ago, my parents retired full time in Florida, with their children living in different cities…. what used-to-be just a simple flight away. Luckily, my parents know how to operate a computer (let’s leave it at that!) and like many offspring, once COVID hit, I was able to coach them through downloading Zoom. Notwithstanding the extra grays this added to my curls, my parents really enjoyed tuning in to our wonderful Dorshei speakers. As September rolled in, it suddenly became clear that this would be the first Rosh Hashanah ever that my 82-year-old dad would not attend synagogue. Of course, I had considered inviting my dad to our Dorshei services, but I hesitated because his synagogue practice is so different than mine. While I’m a super proud and active (board) member of Dorshei, my very traditional parents, or usually just my dad, attends his own South Florida kahal, where he sings Sephardic melodies and reads with a beautiful and distinct Sephardi accent. I asked around and did the usual Google searches for Sephardi congregations anywhere in the world offering virtual services -- but came up with nothing aside from a renewed appreciation for the completeness and clarity of our own shul’s website. Dorshei seemed like the most practical answer here. I warned my dad that the melodies would be foreign, that it might all seem different and distant to him, that it would be challenging to follow the English passages, that some of it might seem too kumbaya - but if he and my mom only got to hear the sound of the shofar, it would be something to mark the holiday. In what seemed like only minutes after my email landed at 18 Cleve, our incredible office staff sent off a Machzor by express mail. Maybe it was the High Holidays, or maybe it was Dorshei, but the mail gods (not to be confused with the female gods) cooperated and my dad was excited to receive something so meaningful by post. Both my parents genuinely enjoyed all three services, and alone in their Florida condo, they were able to feel the holiday spirit. I also felt connected to them. I called my parents before each start time with tech support, and after patiently (ok, not always) walking them through each step, was suddenly able to hear Rabbi Boris’ reassuring voice coming through the computer on the other end of the phone line! During services, Mark, my little girls and I searched for my dad’s small box on my screen gallery, looking to see if he was still there, managing to follow. There’s Papi! My heart burst as I could see his lips moving, reciting the prayer along with the voices on the screen. Yom Kippour is the one day a year my parents do not use any electricity whatsoever. I remember a house so still and quiet. But our world has changed this year. My dad is looking forward to putting on his tallit with all of us again on this holy day - and has asked me already a few times if he will receive the link, if I will help him connect. Worth every single of my new gray hairs.
1 Comment
Liz Freedman
9/22/2020 05:47:11 pm
This warmed my heart! So wonderful that he not only observed but actively engaged.
Reply
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorYou! The Dorshei Emet Community. Archives
November 2020
Categories |