We know by now how unexpected life is, how holidays take infinite forms. We often find other celebrants.

The Baal Shem Tov, holy man
with a sense of humor (wouldn’t you
like to hear those jokes) said a special meal
should happen. Right now. Another rabbi
Shalom Dov Ber added another
four cups of wine. So we met for dinner
in a  restaurant. And although that might not be
what the Baal Shem Tov had in mind,
we celebrated each other in a Somali restaurant,
then went to an old Harlem
jazz club called Paris Blues.  Woman at the door,
beautiful Dominican named Esther sat with us a while.
Once married to an Israeli who died
(married again. An African husband now) she hugged us
goodbye. Chag Pesach Sameyach she said.
And then, Next Year.