Shabbat Mornings….

21 Dec

Yesterday I started to reminisce about my shabbat morning rituals as a kid growing up in my parents house. I miss those days a lot – sitting around the kitchen table with the bright chairs and no one awake except me and my dad.

Growing up until the age of 18 I went to shul every Shabbat morning. I would wake up.. trudge downstairs to find my father sitting at the table with one foot propped up and his face blocked by the huge New York Times newspaper. I would sit across from him and hunt around on the table for the NYT Sunday Magazine (which came out on Saturday). It was my favorite shabbat morning reading material. Sometimes my dad would claim it and say “I am reading this next and you have to find something else to read”. It became a Sat morning ritual of me begging for the magazine while he read another part of the newspaper until he’d finally gave in so that I would stop whining.

I would devour the magazine and my favorite section was always the huge houses for sale in the back of the mag. I would read every detail.. take in all the pictures and names of towns with those huge houses for sale. I still have no idea why that section enthralled me as much as it did – and still does today.

At some point I would glance at my clock and exclaim it was time for me to go get ready for shul. My father would close his section of the paper, bring his foot back down to the floor and exclaim that it was “late” and he needed to get ready too.

Of course my father was ready before I was to go to shul but I’d beg him – 5 minutes, just wait 5 more minutes so we can walk together and most of the time he would wait. We’d walk fast to the shul (an 8 minute walk from the house)to make sure we weren’t “too late”.

I loved those days.. when it was just father and daughter time – even if we just sat in silence reading the paper or walking fast to shul.

I miss those days sometimes.. Saturday mornings are not the same here and I miss my New York Times magazine.

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