Decades have come and gone since the Passover holidays in my memory, yet I recall them in vivid detail. All the family is gathered — my husband and our children, my husband’s mother, his brother and family, my brother and family. We are seated in the dining room of our house on a bucolic street in Westchester County. The table is set with care, the wine is poured, the matza distributed, and all of us are dressed befitting the occasion. My father is seated at the head of the table — a place of honor — the trappings of the Seder service before him as he tells the ancient story and performs the ceremonial rituals.

The scene is hardly unusual, likely repeated in Jewish homes throughout the world. And yet, I suspect ours included a different and, to others perhaps, an insignificant component — but one important to me. Every year, at the conclusion of the recitations, my father would turn to me and say, “Daughter, you may serve the festive meal.”

My father was a formal man, that statement much in character for him. Others may find it an odd way to say, “Let’s eat.” But I loved the way my father phrased it, and I would wait for it each year. I wouldn’t dream of serving until I had heard my father’s instruction.

The year after my father died, my husband is seated at the head of the table — a place of honor — the trappings of the Seder service before him as he tells the ancient story and performs the ceremonial rituals. We are seated in the same dining room of the same house on the same bucolic street in Westchester County. The table is set with care, the wine is poured, the matza distributed, and all of us are dressed befitting the occasion. Yet it isn’t the same for me. Not until…

At the conclusion of the Seder service, my husband pauses for a breath. He closes the Haggadah, gazes at me seated opposite him at the end of the extended dining table. He smiles and says quietly, “You may serve the festive meal.” Welcome, Father. I’m so glad you have joined us for Seder this year.

—Sara Bloom

The Shofar invites readers to submit memories and anecdotes illustrative of Jewishness in their lives. Email copy to the editors at ctigreenport@gmail.com/.