This weekend marks the end of the Jewish “High Holy Days” of Rosh Hashanah  and Yom Kippur, the holiest days in the Jewish calendar. Rosh Hashanah is the holiday that marks the new year in the Jewish calendar. Yom Kippur is the day on which Jews must acknowledge and atone for their sins of the year just passed. It is the time when all Jews focus themselves on God and on the lives they have led for the past year. It is a time for prayer and a time of remembrance. It is a time for taking stock of one’s life, for recognizing one’s failures and for setting one’s aspirations for the coming year.

For me, it is a special time because some of my earliest memories revolve around going to synagogue with my family members. I have reached an age when many of those whom I cherished most are gone. Among those I remember most vividly and with the greatest affection is my grandfather who died many years ago.

I remember as a young man walking to synagogue with my grandfather on Yom Kippur, sitting with him during the long day of prayer and fasting. (Jews are required to fast on this holiest day of the year.) I remember being surrounded by solemn men, dressed somberly and wearing skullcaps and white prayer shawls, singing their prayers in quiet voices, prayers of atonement and remembrance. I remember looking at him sitting beside me and feeling safe even on a day of judgment.

At the end of Yom Kippur, as we would all file out of synagogue and head home for the meal with which we would break our fast, I remember being glad that the long day was done at last but also happy that I had been able to spend the entire time with him, a day without school or work, a day when we had shared an important spiritual experience.

It drove home to me how important religion and family are. I also knew that there would be an end to these days together, a time when I would be my grandfather’s age and when my grandfather would no longer be with me. I knew that there would come a time when I would be an adult and I would walk the path to synagogue without him. Such is the way of life, of the turning of the seasons.

As is true for every Jew, the High Holy Days have great meaning for me. They mark the end of the old year, the beginning of the new. They are a time for atonement and, hopefully forgiveness, a time to close the books on the past 12 months and open them for the 12 to come. But they are also a time when memories of my family and of grandfather flood my consciousness with warmth and joy.

Amid the somber proceedings and the prayers of atonement, I feel joy because I remember my grandfather and the time we shared. And it is these memories that provide me with the sweetness with which tradition requires each Jew to begin the new year. May all of you have joyous memories and a sweet new year.