When we celebrate a religious holiday, are we honoring the religiousness of the event, giving ourselves the excuse to gather family and friends for a homemade meal and time spent together, or extending prayers and beautiful ceremonial candle lightings? 

Today is a day to clean my house, go to the green market for fresh vegetables and fruit for salads and dessert, cook, set the table with china from ancestors past and real silver. Cloth napkins in varying designs, never matching, make the graceful statement of rebellion and acceptance. 

There is a haphazard routine to this practice. I am not a religious woman, yet I continue holiday (and non holiday) gatherings as a way to reconnect over wine, hors d’oeuvres, and stories shared. We create memories. I know how vitally important these are because no holiday slides by without remembering my grandparents, parents, aunts and uncles, cousins. And oddly, there is something inherently comforting and life affirming in the repetition. 

I begin my day pleased with the tasks that await my attention, and overjoyed at the prospect of being with my loved ones in my home. Times like these, allow me to feel, and pass forward, a deep appreciation for life.