selkie's adult bat mitzvah went beautifully. Her parashah was the curses from Leviticus, which she read without hesitation and all the little turns of the cantillation as neatly in place as the scrolls and points on the silver of the sefer Torah; she was congratulated and gifted as she deserved and the poem in memory of her great-aunt which she published as her personal statement in the program blew some of her congregants' minds. Her wife had made her rainbow flag tallis and her sea-blue crocheted yarmulke. (She just asked me if she looked great. She looked great. Peach-colored dress, hair braided back russet-black blue. "And everybody shook my hand and everybody smooched me and possibly I should Purell myself—") I had a very strange moment when the rabbi's definition of Jewish spirituality ran closely to several things I really believe about being in the world, which I had not thought were particularly Jewish as opposed to commonsensically true. I knew almost none of the congregation's melodies and the music director invited me into the choir. I spent some time in the parking lot swinging my godchild around in circles and some time in the synagogue's library reading a rather battered first edition of Alfred Kazin's
A Walker in the City (1951) which I now own. There was salmon at the kiddush and little apricot pastries. I am totally out of human interaction for the rest of the day.
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Hope you can bliss out a bit for the rest of the afternoon.
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Oh, how lovely! ^_^
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