-Jan 6, 2018
Today is the 19th of Tevet
the moon wanes gibbous
the indolent sun rouses a mere 8 hours and 37 minutes.
It is the dead of winter
which could be a metaphor
except it is winter and you are still dead, Dad,
no bud or blossom gathering nourishment
to bloom forth in riotous spring.
This is third time I light the memorial candle
Yarzheit from the German
(jahr) year and (zeit) time
the third year of time
the third time of year
both are true.
The living mark our calendars
with anniversary dates
to anchor our memories
our messy and unfinished loves
lest they take flight
leave the earthly atmosphere
where we are too damned busy
to heal life’s fractures
before only one person is left
to strike the match
perform the ritual
remember the departed.
I orbit around your death
come closest to you
as I stand at the kitchen window
watch the reflection of the flickering flame
whisper the mourner’s prayer
I’ll recite aloud twice more before the candle burns out.
I prefer the Hebrew translation for the memorial –
Ner Neshama –
the soul’s light –
something intangible rather than days that are counted
I imagine it’s not wax and carbon and oxygen creating the small fire
rather an essence
close my eyes and summon the way of being that was solely yours –
if not your soul –
call forth the memory of the way you called my name
a sound I will never hear again.
When I open my eyes
I am alive and you’re still not.
In the hours of yarzheit light
life and death are less absolute
than we are led to believe.