By Nan Cohen
Consider one apricot in a basket of them.
It is very much like all the other apricots--
an individual already, skin and seed.
Now think of this day. One you will probably forget.
The next breath you take, a long drink of air.
Holiday or not, it doesn't matter.
A child is born and doesn't know what day it is.
The particular joy in my heart she cannot imagine.
The taste of apricots is in store for her.
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We had ambitious plans for Monday, but the need to get work done in the morning and uncertainty about our kids' schedules put them off. We had thought about going to Kenwood to see cherry blossoms but Adam stayed at track for longer than we expected, and we ran out of time for the National Arboretum before picking up Daniel for the seder.
I am bursting with matzah, haroset, eggs, salad, soup, tofu chicken, carrot souffle, potato pancakes, macaroons, and about twelve other desserts which we ate at my parents' house, along with the kids, Paul's parents, and friends of my parents along with their daughter. It was a lovely relaxed evening once I refused to do the Four Sons!
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