Happy Hannukah!

It's a minor holiday.  There's a war story married to a miracle married to a lot of housekeeping in the Temple.  It's celebratory and triumphant.

It's when G'ma made us sparkle covered felt dreidles and 6 pointed stars and filled them with shiny coins.  One year I got a silver dollar; I can feel the shiver up my spine just typing the words.  There was a present every day, some larger, some smaller, but the real fun was the lights.

Everyone had a personal menorah.  Everyone got to choose the candles, every single night.  Once you were old enough to hold-and-not-drop-it you could use your own shamash.  And then you could watch them.  They sat in the living room, on the piano. There were lots of excellent viewing places.

The grown ups were doing the dishes, my siblings were elsewhere, and I was sitting on the couch, in New York, thinking about Macedonia, listening to life go by, one flicker at a time.  Tonight in Indiana, my grandson will watch a menorah bought in Arizona as he celebrates his first Chanukah. 

I sang Ma'oh Tzur, just as I used to sing it with my father, and my grandfathers, and then I sat down on the couch to type to you and watch the candles flicker.  Time passes and nothing changes in moments like these, and for that I am very grateful.