I asked Noah if he would make his aunt’s delicious macaroons for our Passover seder last year, and he agreed. A few days later, he was dead. Instead of 10 people at our house for a celebratory meal, we had 100 people for a memorial service after his funeral. Instead of the four traditional questions of the seder, we have endless questions that will never be answered.
Will this once-precious holiday always be tainted for our family?
As I remember Noah’s love for Passover and other family gatherings, can I give myself permission to let the sweet outweigh the bitter?
How ready am I to leave behind self-blame for being a bad mother, helpless to save my child?