Passover Memories

Tonight we’ll sit around the table While we’re reminiscing Both about the Israelites And those whom we are missing. Every Seder takes me back To those when I was young. I can hear my Zadie’s voice, The Hebrew that was sung. I can taste my Nana’s sponge cake And gefilte fish, So much love invested into Every single dish. Horse radish my grandpa made Was mirrored by his face – Beet-red cheeks and crinkled eyes, Such merriment in place. The hard-boiled eggs were split in two; My cousin got the white. I consumed the yolk, of course, In one comedic bite. Second night my father’s folks Played host and that was fun. My grandpa hid the matzoh To be found when we were done. We all know where it was, though; On a pillow he reclined, The Afikomen tucked beneath His trouser-clad behind. He’d get up slightly, just to reach A serving plate or wine; Then all the cousins made a grab To say, “This matzoh’s mine!” My parents are no longer here, My grandparents as well; But if I close eyes, On Seders past I like to dwell. Tonight we’ll gather for the meal But if I tell the truth, It will be lovely, but no match For Seders of my youth. (A Seder is the special Passover meal; the Afikomen is a piece of matzoh (cracker) that's hidden to be found by one of the children for a reward; gefilte fish is a specially made fish concoction that's definitely an acquired taste; Zadie is a grandfather - he was my great-grandfather; Nana is a grandmother.)