Double Chai

 I wasn't raised with much Jewish religion -- just a strong Zionist sense of who I was, from my proud parents, children of immigrants who fled pogroms in Eastern Europe, but retained great senses of humor. "A pogrom is a pogrom" was one of my Dad's favorite off color, politically incorrect jokes.

Anyway -- I knew that 18 was the number represented by the Hebrew letter Chai, and it stood for life, and therefore good luck -- hence the toast "L'Chaim!" -- To Life. But my friend Yossi the Rabbi has taught me a lot, including the lovely tradition of giving gifts in multiples of Chai.

Of course, with that same wise ass Ashkenazi humor, he tells me about the "L chaim" club -- congregants who give gifts of $18 and act as if they're major machers, or benefactors. Fortunately, over the years I was able to transcend being on of the L Chaim club.

Still, anyone who studies any Torah and Talmud knows that numbers have great significance -- from the number of mitzvot, or commandments for daily life (613) to places of certain letters in the Torah. I'm no scholar, but I DO notice when numbers are multiples of chai, and today is Wifey and my Double Chai anniversary.

Wow. 36 years. When I married I was 25, and I felt like a full grown ass man -- lawyer making money, mortgage on a suburban house -- the whole deal. Of course, a year and half later D1 would come, followed a bit over 3 years later by D2, and I truly learned, through my love and care of them, what being a real man was.

Men. Ha -- on a FaceBook (tm) memory, a corny photo of me and my groomsmen came up. It's funny to think about -- they were a snapshot of my most important dudes. A good amount has changed in more than three and a half decades -- but luckily much has stayed the same.

The youngest of the group was just 14 -- a fellow I call my former nephew, on account of he is. He was more like a little brother, to me and my close friends, from the days he stayed over at our college apartment. I recall well one night Ted Koeppel's "Nightline" was broadcast from Miami -- in the very same building as my wedding -- the adjacent Knight Center. We brought the young fellow -- and he fell asleep on my shoulder -- a cute scene that got me some good chick cred in the following days.

Well, sadly, he cut off all contact with me and the rest of the family, for reasons unclear and no longer important, and it will be permanent. He was my dear Mom's favorite -- and broke her heart in the last months of her life at the nursing home by failing to visit even a single time -- supposedly because seeing her in decline was too painful for him. Whatever. May he have a good life -- just kind of funny how closeness can turn to coldness and absence.

The group had two other fellows, Mark and Jeff, who went on to become very rich and successful doctors, on Long Island and North of Orlando. We keep in distant touch -- several years back Jeff and his wife and sons visited on our very anniversary -- but the closeness is over.

But as for Barry, Eric, Jeff and Mike -- well, they never left my inner circle and for that I am one lucky sonofabitch. Jeff no longer tailgates with us, but Barry, Eric, Mike and I still carry on most Fall Saturdays exactly as we did as young men -- and the three of them have sons who have carried on the tradition!

So time passes. People come; people go, as the classic line from "The Grand Hotel" teaches. And sometimes, if you're really lucky, true friends remain through the passing decades -- there to cry and laugh with you.

So happy double chai, Wifey. I spent all evening decorating the house with candles and rose petals, and have Barry White playing on the Sonos. Ha! That's young people stuff!

Wifey is sleeping in, and I am leaving soon for a session with Juan, my trainer. After the orgy of eating from T Day though NYE, we'll probably skip any sort of celebratory meal. Maybe a couple of coffees outside by the pool later -- dogs at our feet, and maybe a FaceTime from our Ds and their families. That'd be just fine.