Shabbos in the Catskills
with animal pics!
Hi, everyone. It’s good to be back. I went to the Catskills for Shabbos, which is significant because it was my first vacation with Mom ever. As vacations go, it wasn’t spectacular, but I proved to myself that I can travel with her, and I know what I need to improve for next time, which I hope will be a mere two weeks away. May G-d help it to go smoothly.
Here is how our adventure originated. As I believe I’ve told you before, my sister is the one who made my current circumstance possible, by which I mean living with my Mom in the city instead of with my husband in Monsey and taking care of her instead of working at an office job. She fills in for me on Shabbos mornings so that I can go to shul, and she’s available at other times as needed. The apartment is paid for by the same budget that used to pay for Mom’s assisted living, and though I’m certainly benefitting from that, Nora gets one big closet for storage. She’s in the resale business, so at any given time, that closet is packed. Every now and then, she has a “pick up day” for her customers, and in those times, it’s best that Mom and I clear out. Previously, we used to go to my house in Monsey, but that’s no longer an option, so Nora suggested we try going away.
At the same time Nora and I were planning this, a couple in my shul suggested I join them in a kosher adult camp in the Berkshires. I’m over 50, so I qualify. But I dithered about it for days, and by the time I decided to take the plunge and sign up, all the places were filled. I’m on their mailing list for the future, though. In any case, that was in July, and Nora needed August.
Now I had to pick a new kosher place. It had to be in driving distance because I didn’t think I could take Mom too far. I seriously considered the Hamptons because I subscribe to a Substack by a rabbi from there, and I thought it would be cool to meet him, but I didn’t find any kosher hotels near his shul. Renting an Airbnb was my only option, but then I’d have to take care of the food myself. Ordering take-out for Shabbos is simple enough, but I would have needed to provide my own electric hot plate, and it’s hard enough to schlep the wheelchair and suitcase as it is.
So a resort hotel was my only option. Since I’m so unaccustomed to travel, Nora had to teach me the difference between a hotel and a resort. A resort, she explained, is when food is included. I opted for the Catskills, even though I’ve been there dozens if not hundreds of times. But I hadn’t stayed in a Catskills hotel since I was a kid. When Motcha and I used to go, we always stayed with friends.
I had a feeling when I made the reservations that the clientele would be very Hasidic, and I assumed I’d stick out for being an Americanized style of Orthodox, but until I actually got there, I didn’t quite appreciate how many stares I’d get for bringing my Mom in her slacks and uncovered hair. She has a cloth sun hat, so I kept that on her when we were indoors, just to respect Halacha. But it was awkward. I’m not good at introducing myself to strangers or making small talk, so all through Friday and most of Shabbos, all I could think of was how much more enjoyable it is to spend Shabbos with friends even if you don’t have as luxurious a bedroom to sleep in.
People got friendlier as the day went on. Many complimented me on how well I take care of Mom. I should have answered that I learned chessed (lovingkindness) from her example. Nothing I do for her compares with what she did for my late father. I feel bad that I didn’t say it. I just basked in the praise. The experience certainly grew on me because of it, and Mom liked having all those little kids stare at her. She waved at them and played peek-a-boo. In that sense, being in such a Hasidic crowd worked out very well.
And then Sunday rolled around. To me, a visit to the Catskills isn’t complete unless I get to see some farm animals. The friends Motcha and I used to visit are the owners of Pelleh Farms and Bethel Creamery. They’re pioneers in kosher organic food. A visit to their house means you’ll be surrounded by their free-range, grass-fed cows.
Rabbi Franklin also had two tenants. One of them bred Golden Retrievers as a business.
The other was an atypical Hasidic family who raised kosher animals only: goats, sheep, ducks, and chickens.
And of course, there was always a new litter of mousers running around.
But I wasn’t visiting the Franklins’ farm on this trip. It’s my husband’s favorite retreat, and even though he and I are on amicable terms, I felt like I ought to leave him to it. So I found an alternative: a petting zoo called Breezeway Farms. Mom was a little nervous about feeding the animals at first, but she got used to it.
They had ponies pulling buggies, too, but I’d already paid the entrance fee plus the feed, and Mom wasn’t enthusiastic, so we skipped it. And then it was time to go home. We went on Excellent Bus Service, which is run by Hasidim and has bus lines between the Catskills and all the main Ultra-Orthodox neighborhoods in the tri-state area. I haven’t named the hotel in this post because I don’t give bad or mixed reviews, but I’m happy to promote good service when I experience it, and Excellent Bus Service delivered on its name. Traffic was slow, but that’s not the driver’s fault. And now I’ve seen that if Mom can sit on a bus for four hours, she can do the same on an airplane. Should I stretch it to five hours and go to California in the winter? I’ve never been before, and I really want to see it.
Meanwhile, I’ve signed up for this program. My Shabbos in the Catskills was fine, but it wasn’t the getaway I dreamed of. But the Bais Chana program has a spiritual component to it. I hope it’s as good as the advertisement. It’s a chance to connect with a diverse group of Jewish women. So if you’re a Jewish woman reading this, and you’re interested, perhaps I’ll see you there! Thanks for reading!