For me, this is the third Purim in a row that does not feel like Purim.
Two years ago, Purim fell just after my father’s death, and when you are mourning a parent, you reduce joy for a year, and that means Purim is almost a “zero,” as you are not allowed to celebrate as usual. I remember I was in Minneapolis and had the seudah, the celebratory meal, all by myself, as my hosts went to their synagogue to be with friends and community.
Last year at the beginning of March, I had just arrived back to Israel from the AIPAC conference in DC. The Israeli government announced that anyone in Israel who had been at the conference must go into Bidud, quarantine. Being the good Canadian girl that I am, I did. My Israeli friends made fun of me, but soon I had the last laugh as the world caught up with the seriousness of this pandemic.
I canceled the Purim seudah planned for a girls’ school in our home and put the word out on Facebook, and a wonderful single guy I had never met read the megillah for me on my Merpeset (front porch) while I listened inside through the open window.
This year I decided we will have an “all vaccinated” Purim seudah in our home and began inviting friends who I knew had had their shots. But alas, the Ministry of Health has just declared that this too will not happen.
So it will be a small, bagels, lox, and cream cheese brunch with my husband and son– which is a step up from being alone in Minneapolis and just me and my husband last year…
Next year, please G-d, you are all invited to our place in Jerusalem for a Purim celebration I am already planning in my head– featuring a mixologist, magician, music, and costumes.
Who is in!?