day of atonement

Today is Yom Kippur.

I no longer go to temple, but I am contemplative, and do fast.  

Although last night, two hours into my fast, my throat hurts so I drink some water, something I've not done in the past.

I am not religious and I don't attend temple.  But I am Jewish and this holiday is important, regardless of how I observe it. At least this is what I tell myself.

I do little during the day, though still more than I probably should. Emails. Phone calls. A long bath. And some reading, The Child Finder by Rene Denfeld. I don't get my nails done or my hair blown out, despite needing both. Being vain on a holiday about atonement and forgiveness would not feel right. The day goes by quickly and the fast is not difficult.

I take a 4:05 train to Rye to break fast with my family — the parts of my family that live in New York. In all, there are 15 of us, including one adorable baby girl about to turn two.

Everyone arrives hungry and there is enough food to satisfy three times the number that are present.

Adam offers a prayer, of sorts, to our good fortune in having such a beautiful family, and our hope to all be better people in the coming year.

The talk is light-heartened and politics do not dominate. We are less divided  about our President than we have been in years past. In fact, we all agree that he does not represent this country well. 

And none of us are big fans of our mayor whose birth name, I learn tonight, was Warren Wilhelm Jr.

Our dinners are as much informative as they are entertaining.