February 2014. This story, about sitting through services on Yom Kippur, 1962, the day the Giants beat the Yankees in Game 2 of the world series, was published by Amarillo Bay.
“We hover in the doorway, wait patiently for the congregation to stand. I shift my weight from one foot to the other; my shiny black Mary Janes slick against the floor. Mom grips my hand in hers. I recognize the signal: Don’t make a scene. I still have smoke coming out of my ears because of the slip she forced me to wear. At least I talked her out of the idiotic undershirt. My mother is a well-wrapped package and wants us to follow in her footsteps. She hopes we will appear inconspicuous, but I know that all eyes are on us, given that there are seven in our party. My eyes open and close like butterfly kisses as they adjust to the darkened room. Comforted and at the same time repelled by the scent of dusty prayer books, stale perfume and musty mothballs, I search through the swaying sea of people for familiar faces. My mother is trying to look invisible and put together at the same time. My family—like peonies—blooms once a year on the High Holidays, fragrant and colorful.”
To read entire article, click here: http://www.amarillobay.org/contents/vered-megan/yom-kippur.htm