8 months ago, tomorrow, he died. Tomorrow, I’ll lead the Seder for the first time. I’ll step into his role. His last email to me was about passover, about wanting to lead the Seder together, lead for a new generation, for our family. Last year, I was in Jerusalem, our family was scattered, not tegher for seder. this year, we’re here, but missing a piece. It is hard to believe that 8 months ago my life was so different. And now, i sit here, anticipating another first without him.
I’m sitting outside, on our new deck, taking in the gorgeous Michigan spring- and I feel unexpectedly calm, peaceful. It’s almost like he’s here, lurking, watching over us, making sure we’re o.k. laughing at our mistakes in covering the counters or making the charoset. And who knows, maybe tomorrow night when we open the door for Elijah, the smell of his cigarettes might pour into the room. Who knows!
Here’s hoping I fill his shoes well and make him proud. He’ll still be leading with me, in each of our hearts. As we embark on this journey from slavery to freedom, from clutter to open space, may we be disentangled from the chains of the past and soar freely into the days of our freedom and future.
I’m sitting outside, on our new deck, taking in the gorgeous Michigan spring- and I feel unexpectedly calm, peaceful. It’s almost like he’s here, lurking, watching over us, making sure we’re o.k. laughing at our mistakes in covering the counters or making the charoset. And who knows, maybe tomorrow night when we open the door for Elijah, the smell of his cigarettes might pour into the room. Who knows!
Here’s hoping I fill his shoes well and make him proud. He’ll still be leading with me, in each of our hearts. As we embark on this journey from slavery to freedom, from clutter to open space, may we be disentangled from the chains of the past and soar freely into the days of our freedom and future.