Monday, September 21, 2009

The New Year Takes Healing

As I stood in shul on Shabbos and Sunday, I thought about my dad.

As I heard the chazzan sing the Hebrew for "On Rosh Hashana it is written, on Yom Kippur it is sealed" I thought of my dad. I realized that last Rosh Hashana, Hashem had written down my father's name in his book and on Yom Kippur, my father's fate was sealed.

As I heard the calls of the Shofar awakening us to doing Teshuva in the final days before the book is sealed, I thought of my dad.

At one point, I had a random flashback. I recalled my family shul, when services were over and the women would walk down the stairs from the women's gallery to the main level to find their family members. My mother and I would walk down, caught up in the clusters of womenfolk, and I would scan the lower level for my brothers and father. And when I'd reach my father, we'd exchange kisses and I'd be wished "Gut yontif. A gut yohr."

I miss that. I guess I always will.


Robin said...

What a lovely memory of the holidays to have of your dad.

I remember Rosh Hashana with my dad quite fondly, also. I remember him saying, "Would you like Won Ton soup or Hot and Sour, Robbie?", and passing the water pitcher to me. I'm going to hell, aren't I?

orieyenta said...

Oh Pearl I know what you are going through...these were our first holidays without David's mom. I just keep thinking of how everyone says, "May their memory be a blessing" and realize that they truly are. Stories about your Dad like this always warm my heart and coninue to be a blessing for me as I am sure they are for you.

G'mar Chatima Tovah.