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magidYesterday was my nephew's bris1. Somehow, much of the day became bris-focused. I had food to make (tomato-chickpea salad was all I was able to face making; yesterday's humidity kept me from real cooking), a kippah to finish (all white, so not tricky with color changes, but there was still a bit of a rush for me to finish on time2), and bentching3 to prep, just in case.
The bris was at the house, and I foolishly paid attention to Google directions, which led me up a hill that seemed to slope at least thirty degrees up. I managed to stall out going up; even second had the car working too hard, and I didn't think fast enough to shift down to first. Now I know why my brother gives directions that seem to be roundabout :-).
The bris itself went smoothly; the mohel4 was obviously well practiced in leading a bris along, calling people up for different honors as previously requested, giving explanations and cues as needed. I was honored with putting the baby on Elijah's chair, then onto the table, after which I was happy to move to the back of the crowd... I've never felt a great need to watch the details. The mohel reminded my brother that technically, it was the father's responsibility to do this, but he could appoint an agent to act for him. It didn't take my brother long to decide to appoint an agent. And the mohel said how the baby's nerves aren't fully developed, so the crying is because he's cooler with his diaper off, not because of pain (though I admit, I'd've loved to have felt cooler yesterday; I hate the humidity).
After the deed was done, the baby was officially named. Welcome to Richard Joshua/ Yehoshua Ronen! Richard is for my paternal uncle, who died a number of years ago. Joshua/Yehoshua is just because it's nice, plus the initials of the Hebrew name are the same as my paternal grandmother's. And Ronen means joyful in Hebrew, which is always appropriate for a new baby :-) (though I admit, I tend to think of unaffiliated samurai first).
And then the meal, starting with motzi, the blessing on bread, done communally by all the descendants of my late uncle who were attending the bris, followed by lots of food, and much chat.
It was a bit odd, feeling the overlaps (family from both sides, who've rarely encountered each other, friends/locals/family). I was glad to see so many of the long-distance relatives, and felt badly that I'm so horribly out of touch with my dad's side cousins. They're older than me, and I don't remember interacting as adults before (much less meeting their kids, who are pretty cool). I'm glad my brother has kept in touch with them, and hopefully I'll start, too. (If the pictures I took came out ok, I can send them along. Of course, now I'm worrying that I didn't expose them enough.) I wonder if them not having other first cousins, in addition to there being four of them (enough to make their own crowd), in addition to the age difference, made it easier to fall out of touch.
It was also good to see two of the older cousins from my mother's side (talking with the single mom about single mom-hood; many thoughts for another post, I suspect). And the locals who I don't see much of (*wave*). And of course, a red-haired baby :-).
Some people had already had to leave by the time we got around to bentching. I did end up leading. I'm glad I went over the words beforehand, but it was obviously not as much as I should've done; I didn't quite have the words cold, and I definitely didn't have tunes down (wedding bentching I could do cold, but bris bentching is much less familiar). Actually, there must be tunes, but I was winging it, having never learned any. I don't think I bungled it much, though. (Side note: oddly, the Conservative bentchers don't include the bris variations, though I believe they do have the wedding changes. I wonder if that's based on a decision, or an oversight?)
I kept thinking I should go, since earlier communication had indicated a 5 P.M. end time, but people kept chatting, and I didn't want to miss the chance to catch up with long-lost people... I hope I didn't overstay my welcome.
1 ritual circumcision, generally done on the eighth day of life, unless the baby's health precludes it. (I'd rather not get into a discussion of how this practice is unacceptable for whatever reason.)
2 Only later did I think about how I could've done a texture pattern, which would've covered more area quickly. Ah, well. (Come to think of it, I didn't know if that would be wanted. Better to err on the safe side.)
3 grace after meals
4 person who actually does the circumcision, who may also be a rabbi, or a doctor, or, as in this case, a cantor (or none of these)
The bris was at the house, and I foolishly paid attention to Google directions, which led me up a hill that seemed to slope at least thirty degrees up. I managed to stall out going up; even second had the car working too hard, and I didn't think fast enough to shift down to first. Now I know why my brother gives directions that seem to be roundabout :-).
The bris itself went smoothly; the mohel4 was obviously well practiced in leading a bris along, calling people up for different honors as previously requested, giving explanations and cues as needed. I was honored with putting the baby on Elijah's chair, then onto the table, after which I was happy to move to the back of the crowd... I've never felt a great need to watch the details. The mohel reminded my brother that technically, it was the father's responsibility to do this, but he could appoint an agent to act for him. It didn't take my brother long to decide to appoint an agent. And the mohel said how the baby's nerves aren't fully developed, so the crying is because he's cooler with his diaper off, not because of pain (though I admit, I'd've loved to have felt cooler yesterday; I hate the humidity).
After the deed was done, the baby was officially named. Welcome to Richard Joshua/ Yehoshua Ronen! Richard is for my paternal uncle, who died a number of years ago. Joshua/Yehoshua is just because it's nice, plus the initials of the Hebrew name are the same as my paternal grandmother's. And Ronen means joyful in Hebrew, which is always appropriate for a new baby :-) (though I admit, I tend to think of unaffiliated samurai first).
And then the meal, starting with motzi, the blessing on bread, done communally by all the descendants of my late uncle who were attending the bris, followed by lots of food, and much chat.
It was a bit odd, feeling the overlaps (family from both sides, who've rarely encountered each other, friends/locals/family). I was glad to see so many of the long-distance relatives, and felt badly that I'm so horribly out of touch with my dad's side cousins. They're older than me, and I don't remember interacting as adults before (much less meeting their kids, who are pretty cool). I'm glad my brother has kept in touch with them, and hopefully I'll start, too. (If the pictures I took came out ok, I can send them along. Of course, now I'm worrying that I didn't expose them enough.) I wonder if them not having other first cousins, in addition to there being four of them (enough to make their own crowd), in addition to the age difference, made it easier to fall out of touch.
It was also good to see two of the older cousins from my mother's side (talking with the single mom about single mom-hood; many thoughts for another post, I suspect). And the locals who I don't see much of (*wave*). And of course, a red-haired baby :-).
Some people had already had to leave by the time we got around to bentching. I did end up leading. I'm glad I went over the words beforehand, but it was obviously not as much as I should've done; I didn't quite have the words cold, and I definitely didn't have tunes down (wedding bentching I could do cold, but bris bentching is much less familiar). Actually, there must be tunes, but I was winging it, having never learned any. I don't think I bungled it much, though. (Side note: oddly, the Conservative bentchers don't include the bris variations, though I believe they do have the wedding changes. I wonder if that's based on a decision, or an oversight?)
I kept thinking I should go, since earlier communication had indicated a 5 P.M. end time, but people kept chatting, and I didn't want to miss the chance to catch up with long-lost people... I hope I didn't overstay my welcome.
1 ritual circumcision, generally done on the eighth day of life, unless the baby's health precludes it. (I'd rather not get into a discussion of how this practice is unacceptable for whatever reason.)
2 Only later did I think about how I could've done a texture pattern, which would've covered more area quickly. Ah, well. (Come to think of it, I didn't know if that would be wanted. Better to err on the safe side.)
3 grace after meals
4 person who actually does the circumcision, who may also be a rabbi, or a doctor, or, as in this case, a cantor (or none of these)