Family, Judaism

Waiting

My dad believed in visitors from the afterlife. He was also a man of stories, and one of his frequent stories was a memory from when his younger brother, John, died as a teenager in the early 70s. The story goes like this: John was in his hospital bed, comatose in the very last minutes of life. My dad had rushed to his bedside from several hours north, barely making it in time. Right before John succumbed to cancer and died, my dad looked up and saw, floating near the ceiling in the corner of that hospital room,  ethereal versions of his grandmother, grandfather, and an aunt. Dad said it was as if they were there to greet John’s spirit on the other side. Continue reading “Waiting”

RVing

Livin’ the RV dream (kind of)

These days, I spent most of my free time inside our motorhome. Sometimes I’m organizing or cleaning, but a lot of times, I’m just sitting on the sofa inside with my head thrown back and my eyes closed as I listen to the patter of the rain on the roof. (It’s pretty spectacular).

We took the motorhome aka the Winnebago aka the Aspect aka Gracie Rides Again aka the rig aka the RV out early Saturday morning just to drive it around. Continue reading “Livin’ the RV dream (kind of)”

Holidays, Judaism

It’s hard to say goodbye to the High Holy Days

I love the Jewish High Holy Days. While we have a lot of holidays on the calendar, I’ve been practicing Judaism long enough to know that Yom Kippur is my favorite holiday. Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish new year, is joyful and celebratory, and Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, is serious, somber, and breathtakingly powerful. This year was especially poignant because I attended the Yizkor service, which honors those who have died during the previous year and comforts those who are mourning.

Yom Kippur is about ensuring that we have righted our wrongs so that our names are inscribed in the Book of Life for another year.  Continue reading “It’s hard to say goodbye to the High Holy Days”

Family

Three weeks, one day

Three weeks, one day.

These days, I measure the passage of time based on my father’s passing. In these subsequent 22 days since his death, grief has taken its place in my life like a shadow. My only real reprieve is for a few hours of work each day when I’m so immersed in the crazy world of employee relations that I can compartmentalize my pain.

Continue reading “Three weeks, one day”