Instead of being in the kitchen frying latkes, I’d be lying post-surgery in hospital, deprived of the simchah of the chag.
I pulled myself up to a sitting position. Then, adjusting my bags, bottles, and IV pole, I made my way very slowly to the hallway.
I was hospitalized in the surgical ward. Many patients weren’t in a position to rush off anywhere, and nurses and visitors helped them make their way to the nurses’ desk, where a crowd was gathering. A patient was asked if he’d like to “do the honors” and make the brachos over the menorah.
As he was about to start, a cry could be heard: “Wait a second! Someone’s still on her way! Just wait another minute for her.” Everyone happily waited as a barely mobile lady made her way slowly to the desk.
Chanukah is a time to be with family, lighting the menorah, playing dreidel, making dozens of latkes to serve the children and grandchildren, while trying hard to avoid eating too many myself — not to mention steering clear of sufganiyot.
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