Shlemazel Mazel (originally written December 12, 2004)
It was not even two days ago
That I sat down and wrote you a note
Opening with the lines: "Chag Sameach...Hope this note finds you and your family well."
I guess things were not so well, after all.
Today the famous shul automaton recorded voice could be heard on my telephone: "We regret to inform you of the passing of Mr. E-'s mother. Funeral will be held on Sunday, 2 p.m., Steeles-College Chapel. Shiva to follow at..."
What actually went on two days ago, when I sent out my message?
Today I feel cold, horribly callous for having sent out a business note at such a sensitive hour.
Of course, it was not my fault--"You could not have known." "It's an honest mistake." "I'm sure he'll understand..." is what I'm continually hearing when I tell of my untimely fault. Someone tries to cite some Rabbinic tractate to help ease my conscience.
But I still cannot help but feel that I have just been a victim of "shlemazel mazel!"