For the past 20 years, for as long as I've known her, my family and I have spent Sunday with Bubbie, my husband's mother. Until just recently, Sundays were spent with Bubbie and Zaide*, but now, it's just Bubbie and us.
Bubbie is the kind of grandmother Disney portrayed in his movies. Loving, caring, always looking out for her kids and grand kids, complete with candy in the pantry for the ride home. If you're stressed out or feeling down, Bubbie's got chicken soup for you - the weight of many years' experiences telling you everything is going to be all right. If you're happy, well, that's chicken soup for Bubbie's soul.
Not that life has been easy for Bubbie. She's a Hungarian holocaust survivor, one of the few who walked out of Europe with parents and a brother, but little else. She married a sweet man and made a wonderful life here in America. Yet, she always looks back and talks about the old country, fondly remembering a world that no longer exists.
On those Sundays with Bubbie, we eat pizza and drink soda, looking forward to the week ahead. Twenty years of pizza Sundays. Twenty years of amazing memories we'll always have. Thank you, Holy One, for the gift of Bubbie.
*Bubbie and Zaide are Yiddish for grandmother and grandfather.