O Come Ye, O Come Ye
And just like that, our family is forced to move from grief to joy. One day after burying my uncle, z”l, the children and I were en route to Bethlehem. No, not that Bethlehem. Bethlehem, PA. (FTR, had I actually meant the Palestinian city, I would have referred to it by its Biblical name of בֵּית לֶחֶם — Beit Lekhem — rather than by the Anglicized version.)
Founded as a Moravian mission on Christmas eve in 1741, Bethlehem, PA was an industrial center during the Industrial Revolution. And it will serve as the site for the seudat mitzvah for my brother, Ace, and his kallah on the first day of the upcoming new week — i.e. this Sunday. (The chuppah, made forty-three years ago by my grandmother, z”l for the wedding of our parents, will be raised at their shul in Allentown.)
The fellas are out carousing. Poppyseed wanted to know what they were doing. Much to the consternation of those within earshot, I responded, “not much. Just going out to drink, play cards, and see naked girls.”
Ma-ma! Be serious!
It really does sound ridiculous, doesn’t it?