Since joining the Jewish Light, I’ve been thinking more about my own Jewish upbringing—and part of that included the Yiddish my grandparents used, especially my Mama (my bubbe) and Baba.
They’d drop phrases here and there. I never fully understood them, but the rhythm and delivery stuck with me. Over the years, those words wove themselves into my memory. And with a little research—and a lot of smiling—I’ve been rediscovering what they meant.
This was a favorite right after she’d mail me a card and then call my mother about the sending the card—before I even opened it.
Which translates into:
