I grew up nostalgic for a world I never knew: my father’s childhood in the Pimlico section of Baltimore in the mid-twentieth century, where neighbors and cousins ran in and out of his family’s rowhouse, extended family always, physically right there. That’s not the world my children and I live in. But during the pandemic, video calls with their great-Aunt Sylvia and with Grandma Randy & Papa Ron brought family into our home at the click of a button, no need to pack up the car or squeeze in travel amid calendars that have gotten so much busier since my father’s days in Pimlico.
In The See-You-Soon Spice Box, it was important to me that Silas and his brother are surrounded by joy and love, including from their great-grandma and their aunt. So often the news media mentions single-parent families as something to be overcome, or a symptom of something terrible in the world. I wanted to capture the joy that Silas and his family experiences—so that readers in all sorts of families can be part of that joy alongside him. Great-Grandma Faye is named after my late husband’s beloved grandma, was definitely one who made sure there was joy.
When the pandemic started, I had been playing for a while with different versions of a Havdalah manuscript. Havdalah is such a multi-sensory experience and has so many entry points where people of all ages and experiences can find their way in—I think I had versions of a manuscript poking around all of them!
But the pandemic, I think, made clear one particular gift that Havdalah offers so many of us—including Faye and Silas, and definitely including me. When Faye told Silas that Shabbat comes back every week, “no matter what,” Silas was living through a time when he didn’t know if his school would be open or closed, or when he’d be able to see his friends; many in our country had no idea if they and their loved ones would be OK. Faye was able to take the long view: if she hadn’t experienced quite everything before, surely she’d seen a lot, and she knew that one thing that can help us through the unknown is to find people, rituals, and traditions we can count on. And that lets us enjoy and celebrate and just be present for this liminal time that we’re in: because we’re all “in between” something, and there’s a beauty and joy to being in-betweenest.
In The See-You-Soon Spice Box, Faye and Silas give each other something to count on—and Havdalah gives that to both of them. It makes me so happy that now the story itself can help people connect to one another and to the tradition; I’d love to hear from readers about what helps you and your families stay connected in uncertain, in-between times.