Oy Vey, It's Mother's Day

They must’ve been having a sale on Mother’s Day, because this year I got two for the price of one.

I told my wife that I was going to take the kids to visit my mom at her assisted living home early in the day so that we could be home for a nice family dinner.

Instead of that plan, my wife said that I should invite my mom over to have dinner with us.

“It’s the right thing to do,” she said.

And who I am to argue.

For those of you Sir Bacon long-timers, my mom is doing much better, thanks for asking.

It took a while, a LONG while, but I think/hope the docs have finally found the right recipe to end THIS manic episode and get her back on track.

For now.

At times she is still changing gears faster than a trucker heading down a hill.

For example, on the ride home today, she told me that the chef at her facility used to be a cook for a high ranking military official.

Then the next sentence -- literally, the NEXT sentence -- was, “I knew David Letterman was messing around with that girl.”

No comma.   No transition.   Barely a pause.

Fortunately I was wearing a seat belt at the time, so nobody was hurt.

As we approach the end of this most-recent swing of moods, I can once again find some humor in all of this crazynesss, but the truth is, it’s still very sad.

But the good news is she was well enough to receive and accept the invitation to our house, not necessarily in that order.

She hadn’t seen her grandchildren in several months and that was by far the highlight of the day for me.

I think my two older kids realize that something is a little left of right with their grandmother, but the six-year old only knows that Bubbie is in the house.

And thank goodness for that.

My wife decided to go all out for this meal.

The theme was... Passover.

Yes, that Passover.

With our crazy schedule, she was not able to prepare a Passover Seder during the actual holiday this year, so my Korean wife picked today to celebrate our exodus from Egypt.

Well, my exodus from Egypt.

And you won’t hear me complaining.

Brisket.  Potato Kugel.  Matzah.  Charoset*.

*-If you’ve never tried this, do it now.  You won’t regret it.  Apples, Walnuts.   To die fohr.

(I've never tried this actual recipe, but check out the ingredients.  How bad could it be.   http://www.jewishrecipes.org/jewish-foods/charoset.html.)

Growing up, we had a lot of Jewish meals in my house.  

Every Friday night, plus holidays and pretty much any occasion to pile in about 3,000 calories in one sitting.

Many of the meals ended with my dad throwing Challah Bread at me, but that’s for another blog.

My Italian-Catholic born Mother, who converted to Judaism, learned to cook all of the foods that have kept our people happy for 3,000 years.

5,000 years?  Even better.

Despite the subtle, and at-times not so subtle hints of my late father, I decided to marry outside of the faith.

I don’t know if cooking an authentic Jewish meal was one of his concerns, but my wife has got that covered.

Her chicken soup with matzo balls is the best I've ever had.

Even better than my moms.

And that’s saying something.

Happy Mother's Day.

It was for me.