Monday, December 19, 2005


In her 70s, my grandmother was very much overweight. She rocked from side to side when she walked.
One morning she decided to walk to the synagogue, a mile or two away, and asked me to accompany her.
I was maybe 8.
She leaned heavily on me as she walked. She struggled past one block, a block and a half. Gasping for breath. But afraid of her husband’s ange if she did not arrive – he was already at the synagogue, waiting for her. (Why didn’t she drive? Why didn’t someone drive her? I just this minute wondered. And came up with the answer: It was Saturday, and Jews are not allowed to drive on Saturday.)
She kepy saying, he will be so angry with me!
She decided, sorrowfully, to return home. I was so relieved. I couldn’t imagine her actually walking all the way to the synagogue.
I'e harbored resentment against my grandfather ever since that day.

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