Happy Passover and reconnecting with my roots

Growing up I never realized that being Jewish is not the same as being Ukrainan, in other words not a nationality but a religion.. My grandmother had Jewish in her passport under nationality. You were supposed to take your passport everywhere, as a form of identification, sort of like Drivers' license. Except Grandma did not drive (at least not the car, however she drove us crazy most of the time). Every time Grandma had to show her passport, she would get a range of facial expressions from the government officials when they saw Jewish inside the front cover- from smirk to silent hatred and to a knowing sad smile. I did not have Jewish for nationality in my passport- I was apparently "Russian". This was done because my grandma and mom believed that my chances for success in life will be greatly increased if indeed I kept my Jewish roots closeted. I however, relished my Jewish-ness- I told everyone in school and then in university that I was in fact among the chosen ones. My mom and grandma did not approve of such behavior and no wonder- they after all lived through times when Stalin, in the fit of last minute madness decided to expatriate all Jewish people to sort of a gulag. Thank God he died before he could commit further evils. Mom and Gradma believed in being silent Jews- all high holidays were celebrated at home, behind closed doors, mostly with food and drink.

Until I came to the US I never have been to the Synagogue or really understood the meaning of Passover. And yet, I know that it's been with me all along through my childhood- through my grandma's stories of her childhood, through delicious stuffed fish that she made every Passover, through the candle she burned quietly by the dark windows during Hanukkah. Now that Grandma is gone, Passover is even more important for me- a way to remember my grandmother, to taste her delicious fish and to even remember how she in her heart loved everyone. That is why we would celebrate Christian holidays too- with painted eggs (always painted by the natural color from onion peel) and cone shaped fluffy columns of Easter pastries Grandma made (never with sprinkles on top because those are bad for me)!

Happy Passover everyone (and Grandma!)