You first met Sophie when you were 8 months old and she was 7 months; back in 2011. We had just moved back to Nashville, and the two of you were in the same infant class at Kindercare.
Eventually Sophie moved away to Alabama (where we had just moved back from). Over the years, we have been able to meet up with Sophie a few times in passing.
However, I didn’t realize it had been 5 and a half years since we saw Sophie last! Back then, the two of you had just turned 4 years old.
That means that more time has passed since you saw each other, than how old you were when you last saw each other.
It’s funny how you have known each other your entire lives, but neither of you really remember each other; other than perhaps from 5 and a half years ago.
But this is the tradition now, at this point; that we will continually meet up with Sophie, in passing- and that will be the thing you two know each other from at this point!
How Jewish do you need to be in order to still be considered Jewish? Or maybe more importantly, how Jewish do you need to be in order to wear the new t-shirt I finally bought for myself:
Jew(ish).
It is a complex and complicated topic. After all, you can have 100% Jewish heritage going all the way back to Israel, yet not actually be a practicing Jew- observing the culture and faith.
On the flip side, you can be like Connie Chung, a Chinese-American, who adopted an identity of Judaism when she married her husband Maury Povich. She is kosher and attends synagogue.
And then there are plenty people in-between, like me.
My mother and I had always specifically felt connected to Jewish people. As a kid, I assumed we were in deed Jewish. I didn’t question it.
Then, a few years ago, my mother’s DNA test confirmed what most self-identifying Jewish people are telling me: Because my mother’s test shows she is 15.2% Sephardic Jewish (via Italy), that means that I am, as well.
Coincidentally (?), I have faithfully remained kosher for over 11 years now; well before DNA tests were easily accessible.
It is pretty much a daily conversation at our house. You say to me, “Daddy, when I’m older, I can drink coffee too.”
During the month and a half I was home from my job on furlough, which ended last week, you watched me everyday in the morning and afternoon, as I made myself instant black coffee.
Not to mention, you and brother join Mommy and me at whatever coffee shop we end up on the weekends.
I see Starbacks Frappucinos in your future. We just now let your brother start drinking the non-coffee flavors, and he’s 9 and a half.
You still have several more years, it sounds like.
As Mommy was setting up everyone’s plates for the special strawberry shortcake she surprised us with over the weekend, the only thing you were interested in was the can of whipped cream.
You asked Mommy, “Can you just spray the whipped cream right in my mouth?”
To my surprise, she did.
You were very pleased.
The funny thing is, I’m not convinced you actually ate the actual dessert.
Where as your sister copied you, to get the “direct deposit” whipped cream, she definitely ate the strawberry cake too.
I thought the concept of a drive-thru window was lazy, but this takes it to a whole different level!
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