My side of our dialogue
Yes, I know,
You told me proudly,
With some regularity,
About telling the rabbi
That you were an atheist
And that all this ceremony
Was only to satisfy your parents.
But in your long white trail
And under the chuppah
You still looked the princess.
And, yes, I recall
In hints and by asides
The loneliness you felt, a little girl,
Abandoned in the hospital
As your mother worked
The store, and you were left,
For days, alone, unaccompanied,
To recover.
Yes, you mentioned that you know
The universe is a cruel place,
Heartless and capricious
Always prepared
To shoot out when we are unawares
A tree root to trip us up as we walk
Enjoying the mid-day sun.
But after all that,
You still figured out
How to say yes,
With aching body, and broken heart,
You still took my boys to the zoo,
And had us all for thanksgiving dinner,
Although you had very set rules,
And we needed to be well-behaved,
And not argue politics,
And not talk religion,
But you didn’t expect us to help
With the dishes either,
Even though you hated to wash them.
And when I told you
I’d fight the family to see your body
Buried
Rather than burned
You bought the plots
Up the road, but not too far away,
From the granddaughter
You never mentioned,
But always missed.
26th Adar
13th February 2026