Anytime is a good time to get together with our family and Monday evening for our Passover Seder was no exception. While our Seder was continually interrupted by babies crying, toddlers asking for food, and little ones running through the tables, I believe I can speak for everyone and say that the background noise was quite pleasant. I overheard my dad saying that "this is just how it was years ago" when we were little ones doing the same exact thing. Oh, how history repeats itself. My grandparents are in the same house as they were when we were growing up, the same house that my mom grew up in. Regarding this house, my mom has said to me, "If these walls could talk...." I have heard this simultaneously with "the apple doesn't fall far from the tree" (regarding my mom and I), so I can imagine what stories those walls could tell us.
In high school, I wrote an English paper on how special my grandparent's house really is. I spoke of how my grandparents put the house for sale and we were all sadded by this act. How could they sell this house that was our second home? Our place for big family dinners, for all-day swimming and barbequing during lazy summer days, for deep conversations with my grandparents about nothing at all. Soon after, my great-grandmother (my Grandma Rose) passed away and my grandparents had Grandpa Joe (who couldn't live in a place without his "little Rosie") come live with them. The house went off the market.
Everything happens for a reason.
My grandparent's house has been a home to many, many people... children, grandchildren, mothers, fathers, friends.... and Monday evening was no different. We celebrated the Hebrews' escape from enslavement in Egypt but, more importantly, we were celebrating together. And I couldn't help once again thinking how fortunate we truly are.