Our Menorah

 Our Menorah

 Susan and I have a beautiful menorah that we bought soon after we were married.  We were down in Los Angeles.  For old times’ sake we went to Canters Deli for breakfast.  Susan had fond memories of going to Canters as a child and the waitress always bossing her dad around. 

After a hearty breakfast that resonated with the flavors of history, we found ourselves drawn to a Judica shop, a place not typically on our itinerary. The peculiar pull of destiny guided us through its threshold. As we explored the shop adorned with artifacts and symbols of faith, we stumbled upon a menorah – a masterpiece that beckoned us with its unique beauty. It was a week after Hannukah, and the menorah stood as a silent witness to the festival that had recently unfolded. Negotiations ensued, and the menorah, now bathed in the soft glow of our shared gaze, found its way into our hearts.

This menorah, unlike others in our collection, has become a beacon of tradition and love. Each year, without fail, it accompanies us to grand Hannukah gatherings, a symbol of our journey through time and shared moments. In the company of a hundred souls, amidst the chatter and laughter, we light our special menorah, joining a collective symphony of light that dances in unison. The room is transformed into a sanctuary of flickering flames, a mosaic of memories both personal and collective.

The final night holds a sacred space in my heart. Nine candles adorn the menorah – eight for the nights of Hannukah and one for the shamash, the guiding light that kindles the others. As we watch the wax gracefully bow to the flame, the menorah becomes a metaphor for life's cyclical nature. In the dying embers, a reflection of moments lived, lessons learned, and the beauty of continuity emerges.

The last flicker of the shamas marks the conclusion of Hannukah, leaving us with a profound sense of reverence. The menorah, now extinguished until the next year, becomes a custodian of time. Its glow, though ephemeral, lingers in our hearts, reminding us of the eternal dance of tradition, remembrance, and the unwavering thread of life's continuity.

And so, the cycle continues – a ritual of lighting that surpassed mere tradition, transcending into a celebration of life's intricate tapestry. In the soft glow of our special menorah, we find not just a symbol but a vessel for the poetry of our existence, a testament to the beauty inherent in the shared moments that define us.