The Voice of Lakewood: Planning for Pesach–with Perspective

By: Yitti Berkovic

I haven’t been sleeping well these last few nights. I’ve been tossing and turning, thinking and rethinking, doubting and debating. The bags under my eyes can attest to the fact that inner turmoil and nagging misgivings do not combine to produce a solid stretch of shut-eye. Yawn.

I have a very big decision to make.

Okay. Maybe it’s not that big a decision, but the choice I will make can have a considerable impact on my sanity during the next few weeks. My decision will determine whether my days ahead will be spent scrubbing or shopping, laboring on my hands and knees or catching a nap on the couch.

For the first time in many years, I have the option to go away for the entire Pesach. Every Jewish homemaker understands the magnitude of this opportunity. This means that I can lock the door to my apartment erev Pesach and simply sell the contents of my cupboards to a gentile neighbor. One quick phone call and my obligation to rid my home of leavened grain can be fulfilled, hassle and headache free. No scrubbing or scouring necessary.

Sure, I’ll probably do some spring cleaning, and I may even choose to use my few days off from work to reline the shelves in my pantry.

But I’ll do it because I want to – not because I have to.

If I go away for Pesach, I won’t have to buy a case of toothbrushes to scrub my oven racks clean. I won’t be compelled to spend half a day attempting to wrap and then re wrap in thick plastic my chairs, high chairs, tabletops, and counters. I won’t go to bed at night wondering if I’ve suddenly developed carpal tunnel syndrome or sciatica when every joint in my body howls in pain. And, best of all, I won’t have to spend Shabbas Hagadol hovering over each of my family members, catching renegade challah crumbs that dare to creep stealthily out of their mouths.

It seems like a no-brainer, right?

But with any decision that has such a glorious upside, there must be some significant drawbacks. Here’s the more complete picture: I live in the same city as my in-laws all year long. My parents and siblings live a seven-hour drive away. Though my close proximity to my in-laws gives me the “right” to go away for the entire yom tov, my husband’s school schedule has never permitted me to do so. Until this year. To my great surprise and pleasure, his school break aligns perfectly with yom tov, enabling me to pack once, set up camp (cots, pack ’n plays, suitcases, blankies, bottles, shaitels) once, and skip Pesach cleaning altogether.

But it also means that I skip Pesach with my husband’s family altogether.

To his credit, my husband has refused to throw his two cents into the decision-making mix. He understands that if we choose to stay home for part of yom tov and join his parents, I’m going to be the one to do most of the heavy lifting. As helpful as he is, he doesn’t have the time to join me on the hunt for the hidden Cheerios, or to pitch in as I attempt to dislodge the pretzel sticks wedged between the couch cushions. Also, he understands that we see his parents on a near daily basis, so it would only be fair to spend some quality time with mine.

Still, his willingness to delegate the decision making to me alone has only compounded the guilt that niggles at the back of mind. Yom tov really isn’t like any other day of the year. We were at my parents for the Seder last year, and though my in-laws see my kids quite often, they would love the opportunity to be regaled at the Seder with squeaky-voiced Mah Nishtanahs and gleeful afikomen theft. Also, my husband’s siblings do not all live in our city; some of them fly in for yom tov, and it is the only substantial opportunity for my husband and me to be together with his brothers and sisters, and for our kids to get to know their out-of-town cousins.

It’s not that I don’t love my in-laws! It’s just that I really, really hate to clean!

Now you understand why I can’t sleep at night.

I have a good feeling that many of you find yourselves in a predicament similar to mine. Like me, you are attempting to negotiate the delicate balance between your family and your new family. Like me, your heart wants to do what will make everyone happy, but your mind is telling you that you can’t please everyone all the time. Maybe you are debating if you should walk back and forth from your parents to your in-laws to enjoy a Seder in each of their homes. Perhaps you’re questioning whether you should pay exorbitant travel fees so your kids can spend time with grandparents on opposite coasts. We all know that these are the most wonderful problems to have. Still, the bloodiest of skirmishes are the battles between doing what you think is right and doing what you know will make your life easier. And sometimes, despite your best intentions and lingering guilt, it is the right decision to choose to make your life just a little bit easier.

In a strange way, it’s perfectly apropos that this is a Pesach-related “problem.” It was in the zechus of the nashim tzidkanios that our forefathers were redeemed from Mitzrayim. In my (so far unsuccessful) pursuit of being a righteous woman, I look to their example for how best to reconcile my needs with the need of each member of my family.

Under King Paroah’s brutal reign, the women in Mitzrayim were burdened with the unenviable task of running their households without their husbands’ support. Their families were unusually large (can you imagine taking care of multiple sets of sextuplets?!), and the women were on their own to cope with the challenges of parenting and homemaking. Their husbands would come from work each day beaten, battered, broken. Somehow, these courageous women knew how to be a salve on their wounds, to be their sanctuaries from the nightmarish events of the day. They made the effort to look beautiful when their husbands returned home; they hid their exhaustion and their worries, they swallowed their complaints and their grievances. They relished their role as ezer k’negdo; they made their own needs secondary to the needs of their husband and family.

So, if there is any time of year for me to silence my gripes for the sake of my family, I guess Pesach would be the time to do so. If there is any time of year when I should put into perspective what real backbreaking labor is and realize that a few marathon cleaning sessions are not exactly avodas perach, it is now. When I really think about it, how bad can some achy bones be when the work being done earns me reward in the World to Come and a happy husband in the here and now?

Don’t count me in the ranks of the righteous women just yet. I’d be lying if I told you that I’ve completely made up my mind. I still have a few sleepless nights ahead of me as I weigh the pros and cons, the rights and wrongs, the scrubbings versus the packing and fleeing.

I’ll keep you posted about my big decision. Good luck with your own. Whatever you choose, may this Pesach bring us all memorable and enjoyable moments with the people we love most – and a restful night’s sleep.

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