I take a bite, and the tart juice bursts into my mouth. I chew, and with my mouth still full, I take another bite. I move the fruit around in my left hand, searching for bare spots where my teeth can break into the green flesh. I continue this ritual until the entire white inside is finished.

This fruit, an apple, is a symbol for this time of year: Rosh Hashana, the Jewish New Year. It symbolizes the past year, the year to come, by dipping it into the honey, and praying for a good, and sweet new year.

Every year is a cycle of beginnings and ending, and every year I take stock of what has changed. It seems coincidental that the New Year comes as the seasons change, from summer to fall here in the northern hemisphere, and from winter to spring in the southern hemisphere. The sun sets a little bit earlier, and still-warm days have a feeling of change.

In one year, my family gone through the beginning, the end, and the transitioning of life. My nephew Micah was born, last year, during Sukkot. Six months later, just after Passover, my last grandparent died. The family dynamics changed so quickly after Micah’s birth, that now, my brother and his wife, are the “adults,” looking after the youngest generation, while my parents stand as the oldest generation.

When my immediate family gets together, all eyes are on Micah. His smile, his large brown eyes, and fair skin reflect his parents’ features. My parents now, are the grandparents, and I am his “Auntie Sara.”

This time last year, I was in Australia. I prayed at a different synagogue, with different family, and ate different food. As “different” as things were, my life had a certain routine and comfort. Then I moved back to New York, and I, along with my family, had to deal with then unhappy return, while I adjusted to idea of having a nephew.

Now I have gotten used to seeing my mother clucking and clapping with Micah, and seeing my brother as a father. We, as a family, have mourned our grandparents. And I, again, have found happiness, comfort, and routine in my life.

Apples will soon be in season, and I look forward to eating them. When I take that first bite of the in-season fruit, I will whisper Shana Tova U’Metuka (happy and sweet new year), and continue to bite and chew until all that is left, is the core.