Spoiled or not?

Before I begin, let’s discuss the concept of “being spoiled.” And since it is my column, I will talk about me. Am I spoiled? My dad always said, “You can always have more, but more people have less.”

So am I spoiled? To a certain extent, yes. Do I have cleaning help? No, I do not. Am I wearing the same clothes from 20 years ago? Yes. Does that make me less spoiled? Probably not, but, whatever.

In relation to the holiday of Passover, I have been very spoiled. (Of course, that is all relative as well. Mexico? Greece? Italy? France? Nope, nope, nope, and nope.)

When I was younger, we went to the Concord Hotel in scenic, opulent Lake Kiamesha, New York, for many years. When I got married, Husband #1 and I went away with my parents for a few Passovers and with my in-laws for many more Passovers, and we have also stayed home, gone to my brother’s for the first days, and etc., etc., you don’t really care.

This brings us to Passover 2025. I am currently writing this column from the Sheraton Parsippany. Don’t worry, by the time you read this, I will be back in my home. Before I left, I froze meatballs, three kinds of chicken, roasts, mashed potatoes, coffee cake, yellow cake, chocolate chip cookies, chicken soup and matzah balls and some other stuff but, again, you don’t really care (and, if you do, I really, really appreciate it).

Over the past almost 30 years being married to Husband #1, we have been to this hotel three times, on three different programs. The first time was in 2000. I remember this because I was “with child.” Son #3, to be specific. My father-in-law knew the guy running the program, and he got a speaking gig there. Sons #1 and 2 were precious little boys at the time, and the caterer served the same whitefish salad so many times that by the time we left, we watched it get up and swim away.

We also all had horrific stomach viruses, which is even better than a swag bag. No, not really, but it happens.

Then, three years ago, we went to a program here that was catered by one of my favorite humans. I have referred to him as “the caterer” in some of my previous columns, as he is the young man who catered my bat mitzvah, wedding, three bar mitzvahs, and three aufrufs, Thank you, Hashem.

My father-in-law had just passed away two months earlier and Son #2 and DIL #2 already had tickets to come in for the holiday. Son #1, DIL #1, and Strudel joined us for the second days. And, since he was still single, Son #3 shared a room with us, God bless that kid.

It was both sad, since my FIL usually ran the seders, and beautiful, because we had all of our boys with us and, of course, thank God, Strudel.

And now we are back here in 2025. Thank God a million times, I had all my boys and daughters-in-law and granddaughters together for the first days. And even with the sleep deprivation that most of us had, it was all worth it to see my two eldest granddaughters hold hands when they were walking around. Really and truly.

The circle of life is a crazy thing. It was just yesterday that I was putting my kids to sleep in the Granit. It was just yesterday that I was taking them to the children’s dining room to try to find something that they would eat. It was just yesterday that I was standing in the kiddish room of the Concord Hotel, next to my dad, and I felt Son #1 kick for the first time. (I was pregnant, he didn’t actually kick me, it was an in utero type of thing…just to be clear.)

And now I am the crazy grandmother who is complaining to the “guy in charge” that they ran out of kid-friendly yogurt and when I gave Strudel’s sister Marshmallow some plain flavored Greek yogurt, she looked at me like I was a monster and then flung it on the floor. Good times. Fortunately, all it took was a cookie to earn back her trust, so we are back to being friends.

May we all be blessed with only healthy, beautiful and memorable holiday seasons.

Banji Ganchrow of Teaneck is hoping that her beloved fish, Tiger, is still alive when she gets back. He hasn’t been looking so great lately…