when my son was in second grade, we joined our local temple. we had always agreed that we would raise our children jewish, the faith of their father, with santa and the bunny thrown in in a nod to my secular upbringing with christian-based holidays. we signed up for the “family school” program which meant that once a month all four of us spent most of a saturday at temple learning about judaism in both large and small groups, finalizing in a service. we made this decision because i am not jewish and wanted to participate in what my kids were learning and because the rabbi leading the family school grew up in the same town and same synagogue as my husband in long island… a crazy, small world synchronicity that we embraced.

rabbi rachel was a BIG personality… she had big, curly hair, a big, wide smile and she frequently pulled you into big, long hugs. sometimes i felt like she was trying to squeeze the wasp right out of me. in keeping with the philosophy set down by the temple’s rabbinic leader, rabbi black, she welcomed interfaith families and considered non-jewish parents like me “heroes” for helping to continue the judaic tradition. we were certainly not the only mixed faith family in our program, but we were the only family in the midst of a divorce, which made the idea of “family school” a bit ironic.

the first session of the year began outside in the courtyard of the temple. rabbi rachel had all of us get into a large circle made up of our family clusters. we were meant to come up with three adjectives that described our particular family and shout them out as loud as we could… like, “we are the rothsteins and we are loving, athletic and creative.” or “we are the birnbaums and we are joyful, curious and adventurous.” i am not much for ice breakers or yelling things out (except when i am very angry or trying to get my kids to leave a playground) - i am pretty reserved - so this would have been tough for me at any point. but at that moment all i could think was, “we are the chasnows and we are dysfunctional, divorcing and unhappy.” i honestly can’t even remember what we ended up saying… and so began my official jewish learning.

many of my friends questioned why i was going to temple when i’m not of that faith (or ANY faith, really) AND i was getting divorced from the man who is… partly i didn’t want to be sidelined from an important aspect of my children’s lives, but mostly i just wanted as much time with my kids as possible. family school and the periodic friday night services we attended fell on days that were on my first husband’s “time.” i cherished the opportunity to sit quietly in the sanctuary with lucy in my lap and theo next to me for a couple of hours. i am not very comfortable singing about jesus or the jewish god in english, but most of the service and singing at our synagogue is in hebrew and i didn’t mind that at all. plus, our cantor has the most amazing voice so it was like going to a beautiful concert while snuggling my children. (i DO wish there wasn’t so much getting up and down… i would prefer to stay in my seat the whole time - i am a bit lazy - which i DID do if lucy fell asleep in my arms and i must admit i usually rocked her during services to encourage that to happen.)

the other aspect of family school i found refreshing is that no one was flapped about our divorce. i am not sure who was aware of it, but i never felt scrutinized or judged. even though i was always with my first husband at temple, i felt liberated from my divorce…we were just another family (albeit one that lived in two houses.) in our little leave it to beaver neighborhood, we were the only ones divorcing and despite the good intentions of our newlands community, i definitely felt “other” living among all the seemingly happy, intact families. (later i learned many of those marriages weren’t so ideal… at least once a month someone i hardly know sidles up to me at school pick up and wants to know about the process and how we managed it and how it’s turned out. i imagine that in five years, everyone will be rearranged into new couples and blended families still within the same eight block radius.)

(some of my newlands neighbors)

after a couple of years of family school, theo was given the date of his future bar mitzvah: february 2, 2019. and then things got real. he started seeing a separate hebrew tutor once a week - he would meet rabbi leah at the taj, an indian restaurant, across town. i don’t know how  she worked out that deal with the restaurant, but lucy and i would sit at another table drinking mango lassies and eating samosas while rabbi leah and theo broke down and learned the various prayers he would need to have on lock for his bar mitzvah. rabbi leah was intense and committed, but also a bit other worldly and intuitive. she had “angel cards” with her every week that we would draw from to see what was currently driving us: peace or curiosity or hope… and she would offer us a chocolate (most weeks i rudely popped it right into my mouth before the prayer was said… i just couldn’t get that down. it’s a strange impulse like the way i frequently pull my credit card out of that little machine right after the message, “do NOT remove card” comes up. then my transaction is cancelled and i have to start all over with the clerk. i especially do this when i am already running late!)

planning a bar mitzvah is sort of like planning a wedding (which i had already done), except there’s the whole religious component to it. despite making loads of lists and spreadsheets i kept bumping up against more tasks and projects that i either didn’t understand or hadn’t anticipated (mostly related to the service.) PRAISE MOSES theo was having a “b’nai mitzvah,” meaning he was paired with another child for the ceremony. the other family had been through it before with their older son and they were SUPER helpful and supportive. i made multiple early morning panic calls to the mom as i fumbled through the preparation. (AND a whole series of weird things happened leading up to the bar mitzvah unrelated to the service that completely stressed me out: lucy wrenched her knee skiing and was sidelined for a few weeks, my car was indefinitely in the shop after i was rear ended, my dining room ceiling came crashing down from a leak, there were a bazillion blizzards that made repairing my ceiling quite challenging and theo’s bar mitzvah suit came back from the tailor cut off at the knees - YES, the KNEES!) 

we DID have help… my mother kindly flew out a few weeks early to assist with lucy, the final event preparations and my house repairs. plus rabbi leah and our cantor had prepared theo so thoroughly we really didn’t need to worry about him. i had imagined us having calm, thoughtful practice sessions (theo had to memorize a pretty long torah portion in hebrew as well as tons of other prayers) in the last weeks leading up to the big day, but instead we were scrubbing the fallen dry wall off the floors, exercising lu’s leg and searching for a replacement suit in the evenings. (i was also eating A LOT of scotchmallows that my mother brought from california.)

family and dear friends came from both coasts to celebrate theo. it was quite something to have this special collection of people in our small boulder town, many of whom hadn’t seen each other since our wedding. the weekend kicked off with friday night services, leading into the main ceremony saturday morning. as is traditional at our temple, twenty minutes or so before the b’nai mitzvah began, theo, first husband and i all met with rabbi black in his office. he asked each of us what the journey of theo’s studies, culminating in his bar mitzvah meant to us. what did it mean to me? absolutely EVERYTHING. the rabbis and cantor and families of our congregation had welcomed us and held us and supported us through the most difficult and trying transition our family had ever faced. we learned and grew and found peace within the safety of the shul and those caring people. and theo became a man (or a “man-boy,” he IS still pretty  teenagery and i DO still have to wrench his phone from him or remind him to make his bed or finish his scrambled eggs.) for me, it was a completely unexpected place of solace. as someone who has largely been uncomfortable in houses of worship, other than to admire the architecture, i did not imagine that i would find such comfort in a synagogue. i am still not sure what i think of jewish, english god, but i am all in with jewish, hebrew god. i love the sound and cadence, predictability and repetition of the prayers and the sense of community and love when they are sung together. and i do know that i believe in family, especially mine, no matter how it is configured… it’s EVERYTHING too. 

of course this conversation triggered floods of tears (i have always been a big crier) and it took about an hour and a half for me to staunch them. luckily, the b’nai mitzvah service is VERY long and i didn’t have to get up on the bima (stage) until nearly the end to speak (AND i was wearing water proof mascara.) theo did a beautiful job… i couldn’t have been prouder of his poise and presence. so on the anniversary of your bar mitzvah (it’s literally taken me a full year to process this event) THANK YOU theo for leading us on this journey. endless gratitude to the the rabbis, cantor, educators and congregation as well. although for lucy’s bar mitzvah i would maybe prefer to have the emotional chat a day or so before the main event, rabbi black, so i am not a weepy mess again.

some favorite moments:

(theo preparing to read his torah portion)

(proud mama)

(proud sister)

(theo and his father sitting in with the jazz band at the party)

(introducing my father before he gives his speech)

(theo during his godfather’s speech)

(theo, adam and lucy listening to the speeches)

(theo up in the horah chair)

(holding on for dear life)

(theo in the midst of the party)

* i KNOW that the bar mitzvah was all about theo’s deeply meaningful studies and his becoming a man and a contributing member of the jewish community, but when we got the photos back all i could think was, “WHAT THE FUCK happened to my neck?” for the service i had my hair pulled back into a low knot and my neck looks like an accordion. i didn’t even realize necks were something to worry about. lucy has a horror of the old lady veins on my hands, theo likes to rest his head on my belly because he says it feels like memory foam and both kids enjoy flapping my dinner lady arms around (kids DO keep you humble!) but my neck? i ran straight to my dermatologist (actually i waited about eight months because first i buried the link to the photos and tried to pretend i hadn’t seen them a la scarlett o’hara, “fiddle dee dee… i’ll think about that tomorrow!” then, when my shock had finally dissipated, i made an appointment with my darling dermatologist, pauli. i am generally a drug store remedy person, but clearly this situation called for something more professional. short of using bull dog clips to hold my skin back, i was at a loss. i now have a whole new (non-drug store) regime that i dutifully follow (you would too if you saw how dewy and glowy my dermatologist’s skin is.) and just to be safe, for lucy’s bat mitzvah, i will wear my hair down for both the service and the party. 

(my neck!)

(miss scarlett)

i DO come by my neck vanity honestly. just the other day i found this photo of my grandmother. i think she is in her eighties and she still took a blue, ball point and colored over her neck before she shared this picture with us.

to read more about my preparation for the bar mitzvah click here