It’s mid–day on Yom Kippur, and we are hungry. We’re back from late–morning services and the fast is kicking into high gear. My parents have given up on the “no electronics” rule, but my sister and I are still encouraged to spend the day with family “reflecting” and not locked in our rooms on our laptops (or our Gameboys in the pre–Macbook days). Instead, we all pile on the couch in front of the TV, pop in a VHS (the tradition goes way back) and watch home videos from the ‘90s and early 2000s. We eventually fall deeply asleep until dinner time.
Our VHS player doesn’t work anymore, and I haven’t been home for Yom Kippur in years, but so many of my childhood memories stem from watching those tapes. Do I remember having a black eye at my first birthday party (I crawled into a table)? No, but I distinctly remember watching the video. Playing airplane with my dad as a one–year–old, stumbling around as Barney for Halloween as a two–year–old, and mimicking my older sister’s every move as a three–year–old—I can attest to all of it.
Luckily, my mom just converted all the videos to DVD.
