Lee knows more about Michael’s family than he knows about hers, but this is mainly because there’s not much to know. Morris is all there is. As for Morris’s past, even Michael doesn’t know a lot. The man’s rarely talked about a time before New York, and only did so when Michael was small, so the memories are hazy. People talk about their parents going on and on about the old days, and it seems odd to him.
“Pop would get bent out of shape if I even missed temple for work,” Michael replies. “Personally offended, even though we didn’t go on any kind of consistent schedule or anything. If he had something else to do that weekend, it was okay, I guess.”
He thinks through the years of seders with his father. They weren’t anything fancy, or anything pleasant; long, preachy affairs with little joy and little real dialogue, accented by a meal Michael was perennially criticized for. He’s not really sure why he had such a desire to celebrate the holiday with Lee.
“But… I did. Like this, I mean. With you. It was different.”