Amazing Experience

Sometimes, when you need to do amazing things you get to. Sometimes, when you need to do amazing things you get to, even if you haven't planned on it and even if the person who suggests doing them doesn't know you need to do amazing things. Yesterday, I went to the drum circle event at Rockefeller Chapel as a part of UofC's C.R.A.S.H week. It was certainly a fun experience. Since the drum circle happened right before the weekly carillon concert, we were able to carry our drums up the 271 stairs to the top balcony of the chapel (and also to the carillon room - I got to play notes on the carillon). Having the extraordinary experience of the view from the top of Rockefeller was definitely worth the climb (and the descent). Also, it was an experience I definitely needed to have yesterday, at least in retrospect.

The Unexpected

Memory, sadness, and anger have a tendency to creep up on me unexpectedly. Yesterday, I was asked an innocent question about my familiarity with a certain geographic area, which I answered very succinctly as to avoid any sort of break down. Which was successful for a while, until I got an email at an old account from my love's little brother. I haven't heard from anyone in her family for several years. Much later in the day I could not sleep I was so saddened.

Yizkor

So I ran late to 7th-and-last day of Pesach services at my synagogue on Monday. I am glad I made it. It was not the first time I had said Yizkor for my love, but it was the first time I felt no need to hide any part of my identity or hers in order to do so. I even refrained from breaking down during services, though I did cry when I returned to the relative safety of my apartment. Of all the occasions for Yizkor, Pesach tends to be the hardest for me. Perhaps because saying Yizkor for my love reminds me even more than does the Seder that redemption is not complete.

Next Year May We All Be Free

On Pesach (Passover), Jews are commanded to tell the story of the Exodus. This telling has (at least) three major functions. First, it is a remembrance: we remember the Exodus as it happened to our ancestors (mythologically if not historically), as we read, "My father was a fugitive Aramean." Second, we place ourselves into the Exodus from Egypt, as it is said: In every generation, each [Jewish] person must see hirself as though ze came out from Egypt. And third, Pesach is a recognition that slavery exists in our own time and a petition based on our hope that one day, everyone will be redeemed.

This passage from past to present to future (or possibly combination of the three) is part of what makes the Seder such a compelling family occasion. The juxtaposition of reclining during the meal with the eating of matzah, the bread of affliction, shows the mix of our joy in redemption and our remembrance of slavery and the Exodus.

Next year may we all be free!

Shabbat Zachor

Most Jews celebrating Shabbat Zachor this week are remembering to wipe out Amalek from their memories. I, however, am dealing with a different relationship with memory this Shabbat. I am trying to remember so many things, but many of them seem out of reach.

This Shabbat marks ten years to the day from the last time I saw my love face to face. I remember the qualities of our interactions better than the specifics now. I miss her.