This weekend I attend two family simchas, joyous events. The first is my husband’s cousin’s granddaughter’s Bat Mitzvah. Yes, that’s right.My husband’s cousin’s granddaughter’s Bat Mitzvah. It is still family, mishpacha. For this, you say, you left Elgin? Absolutely. You see, Simon’s cousin, Susan Roth Sherman, believed strongly in showing up at every lifecycle event. She was at our wedding, Sarah’s baby naming, Gabrielle’s Bat Mitzvah. She came to every dance recital, every theater performance. She wrapped little presents for Sarah to open in the car on the long trip to Grand Rapids, one for every hour, after my father had died. She understood the importance of celebrating and marking life transitions. She modeled exuberance. She exuded joy.

We have celebrated with A as well. Her own baby naming, summers on the Cape. We mourned with her at her grandmother’s funeral and we walked with her (still in a stroller) in a walk to honor Susan’s memory at SUNY Albany. I can’t imagine another place to be this weekend than right here with her, celebrating her own life and accomplishments.

So many nice touches to the weekend. A lovely dinner hosted by grandparents. A live Klezmer band. Ellen Corcoran reading “Grant us Peace,” a prayer both her mother and my mother loved. And A’s clear, confident voice, even when she broke out coughing in the middle of her haftarah. Such poise!

Celebrating like this is about continuity. It is about hearing the familiar words come from the next generation. It is about remembering Susan and her mother Louise who A is named for. It is about passing down the importance of ritual, this ritual, this very Torah from one generation to the next. It is about all of us gathering–from all over, so that we can celebrate.

I loved hearing how polite A is. How she always says thank you. And then hearing her immediately say thank you. Her grandmother would have been so proud, on this point alone. I loved hearing how proud Barb and David are of A. And yes, my own Rosh Hashanah sermon about the power of presence was quoted about how A’s mother showed up. That made me cry.

I loved watching her look so much like her mother. I loved watching her sisters look up to her with a mixture of love and awe as they read a poem about being sisters.

I loved using Mishkan Tefilah and for the moment being back in a congregation that is unapologetically a Reform congregation, even with its own diverse population. I loved listening to cousins read Torah, cousins who self identify as Orthodox but who loved being at this service and who like me, showed up. They wouldn’t have been anywhere else. Seven different people read Torah, modeling something for all. It doesn’t have to be the rabbi. Sometimes it is better when it is not.

I loved sitting and watching and quietly davvening. I love being on the bimah. But I also love being able to just enjoy and really davven. Kudos for A, for the rabbi for setting the tone and for the cantorial soloist for allowing me to have my own Shabbat moment of time and space.

I loved singing Lechi Lach, the very song that I sang to myself in the mikveh on Friday afternoon. I loved the music. Old favorites of mine–a different Mi Chamocha than I usually use. Bonia Shur’s majestic Kedusha. Throughout the service, the music sparkled and aided the celebration. It seemed that the fingers on the keyboard danced with joy. I loved hearing the rabbi talk about first fruits–A herself is a first fruit–and gratitude.

Gratitude seems to be the theme of my week. I go back to Elgin filled with gratitude, for my time away, for Simon, for the chance to reconnect with friends, for friends, for celebrating with family. And for Elgin. It is almost time to go home.

But first, we will attend the graduation of my nephew, Brennan, from Swarthmore. We will spend four hours driving from Connecticut to Pennsylvania. Again we will see lots of family. Again we will probably eat too much. Again we will be filled with gratitude. Again we are filled with pride, for both A and Brennan. Again we are choosing to mark a life transition within a Jewish context.

“This is the day that the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it.”

“Praised are You, Lord our G-d, Ruler of the Universe, who has kept us alive and sustained us and brought us to this festive, joyous, moments.”