So let's see if I can get to 10 here:
1. Shehehiyanu - I can't thank G-d for allowing me to reach this occasion. I so want to turn back the clock. When my best friend from high school whom I had not seen in 10 years showed up last weekend I had to say it, but I choked on it too.
2. Birkat Gomel - I don't need to say this but I can't stand listening to others saying it right now. How come G-d didn't save Lucas?
3. Mevarech HaShanim - this year has so gone down the tubes, how can I ask Hashem to bless it.
4. Mehayeh Metim - I noticed this is kind of a biggie in our tradition, and it's so familiar it rolls off my tongue, and Sasha seems to have total faith in Techiyat Hametim. I'm not sure what I think. I hope I won't be kicked out of the RRA for mentioning that I actually say the traditional version.
5. Ahavat Olam - G-d's love isn't so present for me right now.
6. Anything that uses the word Hesed - not feeling it from G-d so so much. We've seen a lot of it from people.
7. Thy will not mine be done - if you know me well, you know I say that quite a bit. I'm choking on it these days.
8. Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change - also well known by rote but not easy to swallow right now.
9. Alenu leShabeach - not so into praising Hashem right now.
10. Tov Hashem la col ve rachamav al col ma'asav - G-d is good to all and his mercy extends to all he does - Ditto on all of the above.
One line I've been looking at favorably - Psalm 90 verse 15 - Give us joy for as long as You have afflicted us, for the years we've seen bad.
English translations of the above available on request.
Please keep our family in your prayers!
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Monday, March 28, 2011
In memory of Lucas
It's three weeks today.
Death Is Nothing At All
Death is nothing at all
I have only slipped away into the next room
I am I and you are you
whatever we were to each other
that we still are
call me by my old familiar name
speak to me in the easy way
which you always used
put no difference in your tone
wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow
laugh as we always laughed
at the little jokes we enjoyed together
pray smile, think of me, pray for me
Let my name be ever the household word
that it always was
Let it be spoken without effort
without the trace of a shadow in it
Life means all that it ever meant
it is the same as it ever was
there is unbroken continuity
why should I be out of mind
because I am out of sight?
I am waiting for you
somewhere very near
just around the corner
All is well
Henry Scott Holland
(1847-1918) Canon of St Paul's Cathedral
Death Is Nothing At All
Death is nothing at all
I have only slipped away into the next room
I am I and you are you
whatever we were to each other
that we still are
call me by my old familiar name
speak to me in the easy way
which you always used
put no difference in your tone
wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow
laugh as we always laughed
at the little jokes we enjoyed together
pray smile, think of me, pray for me
Let my name be ever the household word
that it always was
Let it be spoken without effort
without the trace of a shadow in it
Life means all that it ever meant
it is the same as it ever was
there is unbroken continuity
why should I be out of mind
because I am out of sight?
I am waiting for you
somewhere very near
just around the corner
All is well
Henry Scott Holland
(1847-1918) Canon of St Paul's Cathedral
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
In memory of Lucas
"Strange is our situation here upon earth. Each of us comes for a short visit, not knowing why, yet sometimes seeming to divine a purpose. From the standpoint of daily life, however, there is one thing we do know: that we are here for the sake of others — above all for those upon whose smile and well-being our own happiness depends, and also for the countless unknown souls with whose fate we are connected by a bond of sympathy. Many times a day I realize how much my own outer and inner life is built upon the labors of my fellows, both living and dead, and how earnestly I must exert myself in order to give in return as much as I have received and am receiving." Albert Einstein
Thank you to everyone who has reached out to us. Please know our whole family is still in mourning and this week is especially hard for Alen at home - she returned Friday to a surreal few days of Purim and is now trying to get back into her "normal" world. Please keep her family in Trinidad in your prayers as well.
Thank you to everyone who has reached out to us. Please know our whole family is still in mourning and this week is especially hard for Alen at home - she returned Friday to a surreal few days of Purim and is now trying to get back into her "normal" world. Please keep her family in Trinidad in your prayers as well.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
In memory of Lucas
I'm posting these lyrics in memory of Lucas who died one week ago. The title to the song is linked to the youtube song:
BREATHS by Sweet Honey and the Rock
Refrain:
Listen more often to things than to beings.
Listen more often to things than to beings.
Tis the ancestors’ breath when the fire’s voice is heard
Tis the ancestors’ breath in the voice of the water.
Those who have died have never ever left.
The dead are not under the earth.
They are in the rustling trees.
They are in the groaning woods.
They are in the crying grass.
They are in the moaning rocks.
The dead are not under the earth.
So,
(Refrain)
Those who have died have never ever left.
The dead have a pact with the living.
They are in the woman’s breast
They are in the waiting child.
They with us in the home,
They are with us in the crowd.
The dead have pact with the living
So,
I also heard this performed by the gay men's a cappella group, the Flirtations, with Michael Callen, in the middle of the AIDS crisis. Hear their version here
BREATHS by Sweet Honey and the Rock
Refrain:
Listen more often to things than to beings.
Listen more often to things than to beings.
Tis the ancestors’ breath when the fire’s voice is heard
Tis the ancestors’ breath in the voice of the water.
Those who have died have never ever left.
The dead are not under the earth.
They are in the rustling trees.
They are in the groaning woods.
They are in the crying grass.
They are in the moaning rocks.
The dead are not under the earth.
So,
(Refrain)
Those who have died have never ever left.
The dead have a pact with the living.
They are in the woman’s breast
They are in the waiting child.
They with us in the home,
They are with us in the crowd.
The dead have pact with the living
So,
I also heard this performed by the gay men's a cappella group, the Flirtations, with Michael Callen, in the middle of the AIDS crisis. Hear their version here
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
What it is and isn't like
Leslea Newman had a great book of poems called "Love Me Like You Mean It". It looks like it's been republished as Signs of Love.
In it was a poem called something like "What it is and isn't like," or something like that, about lovemaking and what she wished it was and what it actually was. I love that poem.
So the tragic sudden death of Alen's nephew Lucas has me feeling a lot like I felt when Alen's mom died suddenly in 2003. A lot of things are the same, and a lot of stupid things people say are the same, and a lot of great support people are giving my family is the same.
When Alen's mom died some people said, "Was she close to her mom?" Yeah, uh, she lived inside her body once for nine months, you know? About as close as you can get I'm thinking.
I can't take in the fact that a four year old boy from our family whom we loved is dead and my son is walking around. And that's not because I'm not in Trinidad and it's so far away. It doesn't feel far away. The advent of facebook in the intervening years since Alen's mom died has made everything seem that much closer and it doesn't feel far from here at all. Even if Lucas's body were here in this room, I could not take this in.
I'm the same person I was - I have no experience of the sudden death of relatives from my side of the family and as when her mom died, I don't feel this is Alen's loss only. Someone said to me, "What happens to your partner affects you" and that felt totally wrong to me. This doesn't feel like something that's happening to Alen, it's happening to our family each in their own way. My inlaws are my family. I hope Alen feels that her inlaws, my blood family, are her family.
Some people think stoicism and not showing feelings is a really great thing. I should have more compassion and understanding for them - they obviously work really hard at not showing feelings or weakness and in many cases, culturally that is important to them. There's a wide gulf between them and me on this issue. I have it with Gabi - who prefers to tell few people about what is going on and the ones she tells she asks not to tell others. She doesn't want people knowing personal things about her. I don't know if this was acculturated for her in the education system, if they gave her something in the hospital when she was born, or if this is character and not culture, but it seems she's on her way to being an Israeli.
I'm having a normal grief reaction, which means that my usual variable ability to focus is way out of range. I have, however, managed to get Gabi to school, to get Sasha dressed, to get lunches made, to get laundry moving, and I'm now on my way to the next tasks, only about 45 minutes behind schedule.
Alen made it to London and flies out to Trinidad in about 4 hours. Please keep her, Lucas' parents, Eddie & Sophie, his sister, Kayleigh, his grandfather, Vlad, his grandmother, Lynette, his aunts and uncles Lisa, Jonny and Spencer, his other cousins, his caregiver Cindy, and all their family in your prayers.
In it was a poem called something like "What it is and isn't like," or something like that, about lovemaking and what she wished it was and what it actually was. I love that poem.
So the tragic sudden death of Alen's nephew Lucas has me feeling a lot like I felt when Alen's mom died suddenly in 2003. A lot of things are the same, and a lot of stupid things people say are the same, and a lot of great support people are giving my family is the same.
When Alen's mom died some people said, "Was she close to her mom?" Yeah, uh, she lived inside her body once for nine months, you know? About as close as you can get I'm thinking.
I can't take in the fact that a four year old boy from our family whom we loved is dead and my son is walking around. And that's not because I'm not in Trinidad and it's so far away. It doesn't feel far away. The advent of facebook in the intervening years since Alen's mom died has made everything seem that much closer and it doesn't feel far from here at all. Even if Lucas's body were here in this room, I could not take this in.
I'm the same person I was - I have no experience of the sudden death of relatives from my side of the family and as when her mom died, I don't feel this is Alen's loss only. Someone said to me, "What happens to your partner affects you" and that felt totally wrong to me. This doesn't feel like something that's happening to Alen, it's happening to our family each in their own way. My inlaws are my family. I hope Alen feels that her inlaws, my blood family, are her family.
Some people think stoicism and not showing feelings is a really great thing. I should have more compassion and understanding for them - they obviously work really hard at not showing feelings or weakness and in many cases, culturally that is important to them. There's a wide gulf between them and me on this issue. I have it with Gabi - who prefers to tell few people about what is going on and the ones she tells she asks not to tell others. She doesn't want people knowing personal things about her. I don't know if this was acculturated for her in the education system, if they gave her something in the hospital when she was born, or if this is character and not culture, but it seems she's on her way to being an Israeli.
I'm having a normal grief reaction, which means that my usual variable ability to focus is way out of range. I have, however, managed to get Gabi to school, to get Sasha dressed, to get lunches made, to get laundry moving, and I'm now on my way to the next tasks, only about 45 minutes behind schedule.
Alen made it to London and flies out to Trinidad in about 4 hours. Please keep her, Lucas' parents, Eddie & Sophie, his sister, Kayleigh, his grandfather, Vlad, his grandmother, Lynette, his aunts and uncles Lisa, Jonny and Spencer, his other cousins, his caregiver Cindy, and all their family in your prayers.
Sunday, March 6, 2011
All the lyrics to Blow Ye Winds
Blow, Ye Winds
Traditional - Lyrics from Songs of American Sailormen, by Joanna Colcord
'Tis advertised in Boston, New York and Buffalo,
Five hundred brave Americans, a-whaling for to go, singing
Blow, ye winds in the morning, And blow, ye winds, high-i!
Clear away your running gear, And blow, ye winds, high-o!
They send you to New Bedord, that famous whaling port,
And give you to some land-sharks to board and fit you out.
They send you to a boarding-house, there for a time to dwell;
The thieves they there are thicker than the other side of hell!
They tell you of the clipper-ships-a-going in and out,
And say you'll take five hundred sperm before you're six months out.
It's now we're out to sea, my boys, the wind comes on to blow;
One half the watch is sick on deck, the other half below.
But as for the provisions, we don't get half enough;
A little piece of stinking beef and a blamed small bag of duff.
Now comes that damned old compass, it will grieve your heart full sore.
For theirs is two-and-thirty points and we have forty-four.
Next comes the running rigging, which you're all supposed to know;
'Tis "Lay aloft, you son-of-a-gun, or overboard you go!"
The cooper's at the vise-bench, a-making iron poles,
And the mate's upon the main hatch a-cursing all our souls.
The Skipper's on the quarter-deck a-squinting at the sails,
When up aloft the lookout sights a school of whales.
"Now clear away the boats, my boys, and after him we'll travel,
But if you get too near his fluke, he'll kick you to the devil!"
Now we have got him turned up, we tow him alongside;
We over with our blubber-hooks and rob him of his hide.
Now the boat-steerer overside the tackle overhauls,
The Skipper's in the main-chains, so loudly he does bawl!
Next comes the stowing down, my boys; 'twill take both night and day,
And you'll all have fifty cents apiece on the hundred and ninetieth lay.
Now we are bound into Tonbas, that blasted whaling port,
And if you run away, my boys, you surely will get caught.
Now we are bound into Tuckoona, full more in their power,
Where the skippers can buy the Consul up for half a barrel of flour!
But now that our old ship is full and we don't give a damn,
We'll bend on all our stu'nsails and sail for Yankee land.
When we get home, our ship made fast, and we get through our sailing,
A winding glass around we'll pass and damn this blubber whaling!
Traditional - Lyrics from Songs of American Sailormen, by Joanna Colcord
'Tis advertised in Boston, New York and Buffalo,
Five hundred brave Americans, a-whaling for to go, singing
Blow, ye winds in the morning, And blow, ye winds, high-i!
Clear away your running gear, And blow, ye winds, high-o!
They send you to New Bedord, that famous whaling port,
And give you to some land-sharks to board and fit you out.
They send you to a boarding-house, there for a time to dwell;
The thieves they there are thicker than the other side of hell!
They tell you of the clipper-ships-a-going in and out,
And say you'll take five hundred sperm before you're six months out.
It's now we're out to sea, my boys, the wind comes on to blow;
One half the watch is sick on deck, the other half below.
But as for the provisions, we don't get half enough;
A little piece of stinking beef and a blamed small bag of duff.
Now comes that damned old compass, it will grieve your heart full sore.
For theirs is two-and-thirty points and we have forty-four.
Next comes the running rigging, which you're all supposed to know;
'Tis "Lay aloft, you son-of-a-gun, or overboard you go!"
The cooper's at the vise-bench, a-making iron poles,
And the mate's upon the main hatch a-cursing all our souls.
The Skipper's on the quarter-deck a-squinting at the sails,
When up aloft the lookout sights a school of whales.
"Now clear away the boats, my boys, and after him we'll travel,
But if you get too near his fluke, he'll kick you to the devil!"
Now we have got him turned up, we tow him alongside;
We over with our blubber-hooks and rob him of his hide.
Now the boat-steerer overside the tackle overhauls,
The Skipper's in the main-chains, so loudly he does bawl!
Next comes the stowing down, my boys; 'twill take both night and day,
And you'll all have fifty cents apiece on the hundred and ninetieth lay.
Now we are bound into Tonbas, that blasted whaling port,
And if you run away, my boys, you surely will get caught.
Now we are bound into Tuckoona, full more in their power,
Where the skippers can buy the Consul up for half a barrel of flour!
But now that our old ship is full and we don't give a damn,
We'll bend on all our stu'nsails and sail for Yankee land.
When we get home, our ship made fast, and we get through our sailing,
A winding glass around we'll pass and damn this blubber whaling!
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