Try and imagine my parents, finally, see their 3 kids, 7 grandchildren, dogs and cats, come together after too many years of not being under one roof. We had so much catching up to do. We found our selves do nothing but eat, drink, admire the kids, and talk and talk and talk and do loads of dishes.
Looking at the future generation, I found my self enduring the past while drinking my sweet cup of instant coffee with broken matzo, just like I used to with my grandfather during the many breakfasts I had in my grandparent’s house over Passover.
Or making matzo brie for breakfast, using my grandmother’s secret recipe, and watch my girls eat it with piles of sugar just like I used to do.
Funny how I don’t remember even one present that I received for
Passover, but the flavors - flood me with memories and a nice warm
What is the flavor of your Passover as a child? I would love to here
And with this sentimental note, I don’t think I can look at another matzo for another year.