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"We're so JewISH, aren't we?"

My mum and her now ex-boyfriend sat in the garden on a July day. We'd moved to a nice house, with a trashed garden. They both have roots in The Tribe, but don't practice the culture that much. So my mother said how Jewish we are.
And that got me thinking.
I'm a quarter Jewish. Well, I know you can't say that, but how else can I make myself clear? I have roots from my mother who had an Ashkenazi dad who might have also had Polish heritage or maybe it was Latvian but was born in a commune in Egypt? Right. I'm entitled to Israeli citizenship as an atheist with an Ashkenazi grandfather, but I don't feel the culture. Like, ever. The only time I did Passover was when I was 8, and that was only because my mum's now ex-boyfriend was doing a romantic gesture. I last had a Friday night dinner 1 year ago, and it wasn't at all religious. The only prayer I know is:
Eleicheinu melech ha olam ...
And I've forgotten the rest.
I'd love to be Jewish. I imagine salmon and cream-cheese bagels, New York, affluence, and this beautiful community. But I don't feel like I fully fit in there, as I sit in my room in England's suburbia typing out this essay on my pathetic heritage.
But am I Jewish?

 
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