{"id":73191,"date":"2022-09-25T06:05:41","date_gmt":"2022-09-25T04:05:41","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.reunion68.se\/?p=73191"},"modified":"2022-09-25T06:46:58","modified_gmt":"2022-09-25T04:46:58","slug":"18-05-41","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.reunion68.se\/?p=73191","title":{"rendered":"A Rosh Hashanah Reunion \u2014 and Revelation"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"\"<\/a>A Rosh Hashanah Reunion \u2014 and Revelation<\/a><\/strong><\/span><\/h5>\n

Liz Astrof<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

The cover of \u201cDon\u2019t Wait Up\u201d by Liz Astrof.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

Below is an excerpt from \u201cDon\u2019t Wait Up\u201d by Liz Astrof<\/strong><\/span><\/a>.<\/strong><\/span> Copyright \u00a9 2019 by Liz Astrof. Reprinted by permission of Gallery Books, an imprint of Simon & Schuster Inc. <\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

It\u2019s been years since the brother I knew was replaced by the religious doppelg\u00e4nger bearing a strong resemblance to him. I may not accept it, but I tolerate it \u2014 and for the sake of maintaining a close relationship and fostering one between our children, once in a while Todd and I suck it up and spend a holiday with Jeff and his family.<\/span><\/p>\n

Like lunch at his house one recent Rosh Hashanah. Dad and our stepmother Cathy had come up to visit with Mitzy, their Maltipoo and favorite child, whom they had smothered into insanity with their artisanal cocktail of affection, control and ambient terror. Jeff, my sister-in-law Stephanie, Todd and I were all of the same opinion that she was forever trying to kill herself.<\/span><\/p>\n

Todd and I had been pretty lax in the religion department. But Jesse was six and Phoebe was four and so, during our ride over I explained that even though it was New Year\u2019s, it was the Jewish kind, that didn\u2019t come with confetti and staying up until midnight, but with praying and bad food.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSo you\u2019re Jewish,\u201d I continued. \u201cGot it?\u201d<\/span>
\n\u201cNot Christmas?\u201d Phoebe asked.<\/span>
\n\u201cNo, you\u2019re Hanukkah.\u201d<\/span>
\n\u201cI think she was asking if we were Christians,\u201d Jesse said.<\/span>
\n\u201cYou\u2019re not that, either,\u201d I told them.<\/span>
\n\u201cIs there a Santa Claus?\u201d Phoebe asked.<\/span>
\n\u201cYes,\u201d I said, only because I don\u2019t want my kids to tell the Catholic kids and then we\u2019re those <\/em>a**holes.<\/span><\/p>\n

The talk had proven so easy, I decided to broach another thorny subject. \u201cSo kids\u2026 you need to know that Mommy and Daddy are going to die someday.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

That didn\u2019t go over as well.<\/span><\/p>\n

After the kids stopped crying and carrying on about our imminent deaths, we spent the rest of the ride discussing what they wanted for Christmas. It had <\/em>been a little premature of me to have the \u201cdeath talk\u201d when they\u2019d yet to experience death with anything beyond the occasional fly.<\/span><\/p>\n

The moment we entered Jeff\u2019s house, we were hit with a burst of hot air that smelled of chicken, root vegetables \u2014 and if Jewishness had a smell, that. Jeff was the picture of Orthodoxy, looking less like the comedy writer I knew and more like a Hasidic Abraham Lincoln. The dining table had been extended to accommodate what looked like an entire road company of Fiddler on the Roof. <\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

I found his wife Stephanie in the kitchen. She pointed out that my favorite Orthodox friend of theirs was there. The most \u201cnormal\u201d of them all, he bore an uncanny resemblance to Tom Cruise, which tells you a lot about the scale I\u2019m using for \u201cnormal.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

I sat at the table next to Todd and across from Dad and Cathy, who stood out like an Irish Catholic sore thumb, fanning herself with a napkin. She told me the AC was broken, and because of \u201cJewish rules\u201d they couldn\u2019t call the guy to come because no one was allowed to touch the phone.<\/span><\/p>\n

My brother had chosen this life of excessive suffering \u2014 their house, their rules. So I sat there in an ever-growing pool of my own sweat.<\/span><\/p>\n

After lunch, the Orthodox wives moved into the kitchen to discuss their nation of children, leaving the menfolk to sit around the table to discuss the nation of Israel. I retreated to the living room with Todd, my dad, Cathy and Orthodox Tom Cruise, who plopped down on the couch next to me and focused his attention on trying to find a rock in his shoe.<\/span><\/p>\n

When it comes to our family, as I\u2019m sure it does with others, this is when the TV usually comes on. But in this kosher house, where we couldn\u2019t operate anything more mechanical than the doorknob on the way out, we would now be forced to talk to each other.<\/span><\/p>\n

Perhaps it was the lack of AC making me woozy or the fact that we\u2019d burned through the small talk in five minutes flat or even all the \u201cdeath\u201d talk on our way over, that made me decide to broach the subject of my twin sister who had bitten the dust before we were born.<\/span><\/p>\n

I hadn\u2019t learned about her until I was in high school and took a good look at my birth certificate where, in the space after \u201cHow Many Children Born,\u201d was the handwritten notation \u201cTwo Female.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHey \u2014 did my twin sister have a name before she died?\u201d I asked.<\/span><\/p>\n

My Dad stared straight ahead and didn\u2019t answer.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou and Jeff had a sister?\u201d Orthodox Tom Cruise asked. \u201cDid she have a name?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNo, she didn\u2019t,\u201d My father suddenly boomed. \u201cShe was dead on arrival. Where\u2019s the dog?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

I pointed to Mitzy across from his chair and asked, \u201cSo\u2026 was she complete? Did she have all her\u2026 parts?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cShe\u2019d been dead a while,\u201d he answered, \u201cShe was smaller than you \u2014 but she was formed, yes.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Until now, I\u2019d thought she was a blob of cells or a cyst with teeth and hair that might pop out of my neck if I lost enough weight. But I\u2019d had a full-sized sister. \u201cSo what did they do with her?\u201d I asked.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know!\u201d My father was becoming exasperated. He straightened his pant creases, looking on proudly as Mitzy uncrossed and re-crossed her paws. He knew every move his dog made, yet he had no idea what doctors did with his dead human fully formed daughter who had been my two legged-two-armed, sister. \u201cIt was the seventies<\/em>, Liz.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Orthodox Tom Cruise asked Todd if this was all for real. Todd assured him it was.<\/span><\/p>\n

I was starting to feel a vague panic I couldn\u2019t quite identify. I asked my father how long she\u2019d been dead before they took her out, and watched him actually start to do the math.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou were born two months early\u2026\u201d He calculated. \u201cAnd they thought she died two weeks before that.\u201d The details coming back to him, he sat upright, pointing to his middle. \u201cHer umbilical cord was wrapped around here<\/em>, in a way that kept her from growing, so\u2026 she died.\u201d He threw his hands up, the first show of emotion he demonstrated.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s common,\u201d Cathy said.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cDo they know if you were fraternal or identical?\u201d Orthodox Tom Cruise asked me, knowing I couldn\u2019t possibly know, but so personally thrown that he wanted the question out there.<\/span><\/p>\n

My Dad had settled back in his chair. A yawn escaped him; he closed his eyes.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOne sac means identical, two means fraternal.\u201d He gestured in my general direction. \u201cThey were in one sac,\u201d he mumbled sleepily.<\/span><\/p>\n

So, I had been a they. As they as they come. Identical. Another me. Maybe I held her as she died, held my dead sister for two weeks until we emerged \u2014 one alive, one dead \u2014 from our mother.<\/span><\/p>\n

Our mother.<\/span><\/p>\n

The thought of carrying a child almost to term only to have it die in the last few weeks was unbearable, something I would wish on no mother, not even that witch of a woman who\u2019d left when I was six.<\/span><\/p>\n

I found myself sympathizing with her. It was the stuff of nightmares. Of my family. Of my mother, who was warped as they come.<\/span><\/p>\n

As was my habit (and my profession mandated), I obviously had to make a joke. \u201cAt least Mom had me! One for the price of two?!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

My father laughed, but not the kind I was going for. \u201cShe sure as hell didn\u2019t want anything to do with you,\u201d he chuckled.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cShe hated me because my sister died?\u201d I asked. \u201cShe blamed me?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

His bitter cackle was enough to rouse Mitzy, who had fallen asleep. Cathy shushed him, and he continued in a softer, condescending voice.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYour mother\u2019s problem wasn\u2019t that your sister died,\u201d he said matter-of-factly. \u201cHer problem was that you lived<\/em>. She didn\u2019t want more kids.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Suddenly Caleb, my nephew, who\u2019d inherited my brother\u2019s sarcasm and comedic timing, appeared.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cJesse fell in the pool!\u201d he yelled, smirking.<\/span><\/p>\n

As Todd and I bolted outside, Cathy called after us to make sure we closed the door so Mitzy wouldn\u2019t get out.<\/span><\/p>\n

It wasn\u2019t that Jesse couldn\u2019t swim. Jesse didn\u2019t like surprises; they made him anxious, and in the words of his school principal, he required \u201ca lot of emotional unpacking.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

I could relate. Could I ever.<\/span><\/p>\n

Todd pulled him out and ran inside to get a towel. Jesse stood there, his glasses crooked and dripping, the holiday outfit he\u2019d assembled for himself to look \u201csharp\u201d all soaking wet.<\/span><\/p>\n

He balled his fists up tightly \u2014 in addition to anxiety, he had sensory issues. I knew we needed to stop this forty-nine-pound volcano from erupting.<\/span><\/p>\n

I knelt down and bowed my head, like I\u2019d learned to do to soothe my son. He leaned in and pressed his head against mine, like he\u2019d learned do to be soothed.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s okay, you\u2019re okay,\u201d I said, softly, over and over.<\/span><\/p>\n

I felt the tension leaving his body. Relief.<\/span><\/p>\n

Your mother\u2019s problem wasn\u2019t that your sister died. It was that you lived.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

If I ever feared I was like my mother \u2014 which I did, every moment of every day \u2014 it was moments like this, knowing what to do for my child and wanting to do it, that proved I wasn\u2019t anything like her.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cElizabeth, you pamper him too much.\u201d My father had come outside. \u201cYou\u2019ll make him weird.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

He turned to go back in the house. Cathy was in the doorway.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhere\u2019s the dog?\u201d He asked her.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI thought you had her,\u201d Cathy said, in a sudden panic.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cShe\u2019s in the pool!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

My niece Sasha was pointing at Mitzy who was swimming \u2014 or possibly trying to drown, Ophelia-like, the little pink bow that had been tied tightly atop her little bug-eyed head now floating toward the drain.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cJesus Christ Almighty!\u201d my dad yelled.<\/span><\/p>\n

Jesse\u2019s mood lightened, and soon he was cracking up along with his cousins as Dad and Cathy coaxed a definitely masochistic Mitzy out of the pool.<\/span><\/p>\n

Jeff came over. \u201cThanks for coming today,\u201d he said, and he meant it. He put his arm around me and wished me a Happy New Year.<\/span><\/p>\n

Squeezing him tight, I wished him the same.<\/span><\/p>\n

And I meant it.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

Liz Astrof<\/strong> is an award-winning executive producer and one of the most successful sitcom writers in television today. She has worked on The King of Queens, 2 Broke Girls, Raising Hope, Whitney, Becker, and many more shows. She lives in California with her family.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

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A Rosh Hashanah Reunion \u2014 and Revelation Liz Astrof The cover of \u201cDon\u2019t Wait Up\u201d by Liz Astrof. Below is an excerpt from \u201cDon\u2019t Wait Up\u201d by Liz Astrof. Copyright \u00a9 2019 by Liz Astrof. Reprinted by permission of Gallery Books, an imprint of Simon & Schuster Inc.  It\u2019s been years since the brother I knew […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[3],"tags":[26,24],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.reunion68.se\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/73191"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.reunion68.se\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.reunion68.se\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.reunion68.se\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.reunion68.se\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=73191"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/www.reunion68.se\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/73191\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":98441,"href":"https:\/\/www.reunion68.se\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/73191\/revisions\/98441"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.reunion68.se\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=73191"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.reunion68.se\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=73191"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.reunion68.se\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=73191"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}