And So This Is Pesach

But for the ponderous plague, tonight we would be at Bob and Vera's house -- my son in law Joey and D1's brother and sister in law. They had invited us to their family seder -- and we were SO looking forward to it -- they make it joyous, fun, and meaningful. 

Their beautiful daughter, now a toddler, would be there -- as well as her baby cousin, our wonderful grandson. There would have been much kvelling. Instead, we exchanged texts about how much we miss each other, and let us be together next year.

D1 and Joey texted -- they are going to host a virtual seder. They bought some seders in a box from a local place, Blue Collar, and had matzoh delivered. We did, too -- 2 boxes -- from my rabbi Yossi here in town, and another from the UF Rabbi, Berl, who I have befriended.  At 7 Joey will lead us -- D2 and Jonathan for just a bit before they jump off for another virtual seder hosted by Jonathan's parents. So we will celebrate best we can.

Before then, I have planned some near human contact. Captain Doctor Kenny is due here at 4:15 to join me in my constitutional around the 'hood. We'll keep our distance, of course, but it will be nice to talk to my brilliant and funny friend from across a road instead of on a phone.

The green shoots of hopeful news continue. The model I keep checking, from U Washington, today revised DOWNWARD its projected death totals. The thing has been fairly accurate, and says Florida will peak on cases and deaths on April 21. It also projects Florida has plenty of regular and ICU beds to handle the surge -- an upside, I guess, to our overly expensive health care industry here.

There remains, of course, plenty of negativity. The virus could surge again. Maybe being exposed and not sickened doesn't confer immunity...

Well -- of course more bad can happen. I have coined my own term for the next plague -- the schmutzvirus, with schmutz being Yiddish for dirt. Why not. Corona is too regal -- meaning crown. Something that kills and sickens ought to have a name associated with filth.

But as for me, and my house (I love those signs on Christian folks' front doors) I worship cautious optimism.

Rabbi Yossi posted my favorite Passover story on FaceBook. It involved a young rabbi who went to the Baal Shem Tov, the leader of the Chabad movement, and told him he really wanted to see Elijah, the prophet for who the door is left open and a chair unoccupied at seders. The Rebbe told him he could -- bring a box of food to a poor family and attend their seder. He did so -- had a lovely time with the destitute schtetl folk, but complained he still didn't see Elijah.

The Rebbe told him to return for the final seder and do the same, but this time wait outside and listen before going inside. The young rabbi did, and heard the children complaining there was no food. The mother told them to have faith -- after all -- didn't Elijah indeed visit them the first night and bring them food?

The young rabbi understood. If you want to see the prophet -- BE the prophet.  Yossi called me to say that Wifey and I were the first angels they met when they moved to Miami . It warmed me.

So of course, this Pesach we find ourselves slaves again. Not to Pharaoh, but to a dread disease.

We were freed. We were freed many times. May this Passover mark the beginning of our latest emancipation.