traditional call from a hospital room in Berkeley, Calif.
The hospital has its own rituals, I soon discovered, beginning with admissions.
“My husband is Jewish, too,” said the clerk at the Alta Bates hospital in Berkeley, Calif., as I checked in, while glancing at the religious affiliation on the form I had just filled out.
“Is he a good husband?” I asked, at a loss for the right thing to say.
An Improvised Holiday
traditional call from a hospital room in Berkeley, Calif.
Bad enough that my heartbeat went berserk and I had to be hospitalized. But on Rosh Hashanah? And me, an observant Jew?! Not only would I miss the synagogue service I so loved, and not have visitors because they were forbidden to drive, but how could I possibly adhere to the High Holy Day commandments? Sure, God would forgive me — my life was at stake — but I couldn’t bear the thought of ushering in the New Year without its glorious ritual.
The hospital has its own rituals, I soon discovered, beginning with admissions.
“My husband is Jewish, too,” said the clerk at the Alta Bates hospital in Berkeley, Calif., as I checked in, while glancing at the religious affiliation on the form I had just filled out.
“Is he a good husband?” I asked, at a loss for the right thing to say.
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