Then the heavens parted

An ancient blue eye with a very small pupil stares at me. Unknowing yet unwavering. It looks. It penetrates. But it cannot see. It is only for my benefit that it appears. It is to remind me of what I need to see. To keep seeing. To never stop seeing. It makes me so angry. My sinuses could explode. Why do I need to see so much? And it doesn't end there. Seeing leads to feeling which leads to expression which leads back to feeling. Over and over. The pupil doesn't change size. It has lost interest. Moved on. The void is fixed. The blue watery. The connection is gone.

In which she appears unceremoniously and tells me to get on with my life

She was nothing if not practical. So, it should come as no surprise that in her one dramatic appearance since her death, the message was short and to the point. We had our life together, get over it and move on. Our life was not your life and it isn't now.  What were you thinking? What are you thinking? Got it. Yes. It makes me sick. I break teeth. Gnashing. Snarling. Oy vey- whose woods are these? Clearly not mine. I have been trespassing for 58 years and now they tell me? Isn't possession 9/10ths of the law?  Shall I go or shall I stay? I am unhinged. There is nothing to hold on to. I mistook the center that did not hold for the one that did. Will I ever learn? And then the odd thought that as the last one to appear, maybe I was an accident. And if so, then the feelings are even more warranted than before. But no, there is enough to understand without adding another layer of complexity. Just when I thought the coast was clear. Just when I started to step out and up. I yearn for Jewish things. The fluffy matzo ball floating in over salted soup. All the old ones making jokes barely making it across the floor with their walkers. The corny toast of L'Chaim that came forth every Friday night with the cheap red wine. Something and someone to hold onto. Instead, I live in what some consider paradise. Fruit trees blossoming. Mountains as a backdrop. Quiet and peaceful dark descending. But it is the Jews I yearn for. The noisy nosey ones of my life. The curious inquiring minds. The center that held itself together with glue and spit. Centuries. Continents. Adrift.

Now there is nothing

The door swings closed. We walk empty corridors and look at each other knowing and not knowing. It is only us now. No one to care for. In the last breath, he exhaled centuries. Continents. Undying love. Now we are four. Together, yet alone. What happens now? I wait for a sign. It is not the pain of parting beauty I feel now, but a severed head. It is my own.  Truly mine. And I don't know what to do with it. The body is compelling but the head is in agony. It rolls on the floor and moves between tears and silence.  What now? In the end, he didn't know me. And the only thing that mattered was kindness. Kindness came easy to me. Kindness for him. How do I learn to let that kindness reconnect the head to the body. How do I  inhale again and restore the continents? The love? The corridor is completely barren now. Everyone has retreated behind a closed door. We trade places. Stepping up. Stepping down.  In the end, it is always the same. There is no why. There is no meaning. There is only time.