OY, DO I NEED TO SPELL IT OUT FOR YOU?

HAPPY CHANUKAH!! On second thought should I write Hanukkah?  Maybe Hanukah? OR alternatively… Hannukah, Chanuka, Hanuka, Channukah, Chanukka, Hanukka, Hannuka, Hannukkah? Another option: Channukkah. That’s some cockamamie spelling. You think?  

For the record, CHANUKAH looks the right-est to me. We can agree to disagree.

As far as Christmas goes (Xmas anyone?) we were not a Jewish family that celebrated. No Christmas tree. Not even a Chanukah bush. Be that as it may, we faithfully ordered in Chinese food on Christmas Eve. So did we inadvertently observe the EVE?

And on reflection, how incredulous that back in the 60’s many of us Jewish kids were told not to sing along to “Silent Night” during school holiday assemblies. Did parents think we’d be converted by caroling osmosis? ABSURD.

While my family steered clear of the whole HO-HO-HO situation, we managed to rip off the idea with our Jewish interpretation… CHANUKAH HARRY… OY-OY-OY. No need for a family member to quietly disappear in order to avail oneself of white beard, jaunty stocking cap and the rest of the paraphernalia. And no need to wonder if said person was the “real” deal… we knew it was my darling Uncle Sid. Just as he was.

Though I guess it would have made more sense for him to have been referred to as Hanukkah Harry.

Prior to the bigger gathering of relatives, where Harry would make his appearance, my little family of three celebrated the eight nights by lighting the candles on the menorah followed by the singing of Chanukah songs… all three of them. And last but not least, I received a little sumpin sumpin each of the festival of lights nights. Emphasis on little.

Oh how I looked forward to those small giftings; cute thumbtacks for my orange and yellow bulletin board, a fun pen, little knick-knacks, hair do-dads – you get the idea.

The big soiree with extended family was where I might receive gifts of a higher caliber. That being so, I spent weeks spying and searching and desperately trying to uncover the hiding place of purchased gifts. I just had to know what I was getting. And what my cousins were getting. It consumed me.

 I pried those wrapped goodies open, haphazardly carefully re-taping, and none was the wiser. And just like Kristen Wig’s surprise lady on SNL, I couldn’t contain my excitement and couldn’t keep my mouth shut. Sorry for ruining surprises…

but I was “SO FREAKING EXCITED, OHHH MY GODDDDD!”

The year my cuz and I were BOTH receiving the YARDLEY “HEARTBREAKER” 3 IN 1 EYE MAKEUP COMPACT was even better than the year I acquired Barbie’s Dream House. OHH MY GODDDD.

That almost made up for the unequal, incommensurate, unacceptable gifts we (me and cuz) received from one of my aunts. My cuz’s package revealed two pairs of sophisticated nude nylon stockings… a far cry from the two pairs of juvenile knee socks I was confronted with. Really?

Unfortunately my snooping backfired the year I attempted to intervene when Hanukah Harry handed over one of my goodies to someone else. It was the smug look on my mom’s face that let me know real quick that she had caught on to my snooping. By exchanging hiding places with my aunt –  the coveted gift went to someone else.

Once I married a non-Jew our December became full-on CHRISMAKAH. Our tree, decorated with an abundance of ornaments, shiny menorah and spinning dreidels merrily exist side-by-side,,, along with a high-spirited “Jingle Bells” and exuberant “Dreidel, Dreidel, Dreidel”.

Year ‘one’ we were gifted our first nutcracker… and now look!

Our annual unboxing begins with my daughter’s careful consideration of where each one must be positioned. Short to tall? Newest to oldest? Similarity grouped side by side? Any which way? No matter, they are ways harmoniously spread across the width of our mantel.

Our tree tradition began the year we were heading to visit family in Florida. The girls were young and quite disappointed to learn that we would not be putting up a tree. Christmas Eve my husband arrived with a sweet little Charlie Brown tree. It was some time before the origin was revealed; the top of a tree he cut from one discarded in our alley. He is resourceful. And thus our annual Eve tree procurement custom was born. Although no longer re-claimed from the alley.

The traditional ringing of bells, rung in each and every window by our daughters on December 24th, signals Santa that they are off to bed. (The coast is clear!) It’s till required or Santa won’t come. (winky face).

When the Hebrew calendar alerts us as to which December day will be the first night of Chanukah we bring out our three menorahs; two ceramic versions hand painted by ‘little hands’ and the other a wedding gift from my parents. We place them atop the cloth mat I drew back when I was a child… which according to the Hebrew date (25th of Kislev 5723) was created in 1962.

And yes, our extended mishpacha, mishpocha, mishpocheh, mishpachah FAMILY still parties at Chanukah. We have dubbed ourselves “The Chanukah Elves”… since we are a mishmash of Jew/non-Jew… AND we’ve been known to fudge the dates to make sure everyone can attend. Therefore OUR Chanukah, Hanukah, Hannukah might occur in December (per calendar) or quite possibly in November. Or. January.

Our “Chanukah Elves” version of Secret Santa… Hush Hush Harry … has annual themes we must abide by. Themes like: “As Seen on TV”, “Based on a Childhood Memory”, “Something You Need During a Disaster”, “Your Favorite Gadget” or “It Needs to be Homemade”. And, without fail, when it’s time to play our grab-bag swapping game it invariably begins with contradictions of what the rules are. Do we steal? Do we open before a steal? Does person #1 get to steal? OY. Vey.

I leave you with this photo of me at an early Chanukah shindig. That’s me on the left posing as a domestic goddess, “Look honey, I used to iron!”. It appears it was both my first attempt and after fifteen minutes… my last.

Wishing all of you wonderful people a most joyful whatever you celebrate this season. Hope it’s filled with oodles of love and an abundance of laughter. We could all use some of that compassion, humanity, goodwill… AND merry, happy, mirthful giggles!

Be well. Be safe. Be you.

XOXOX, Karen