The last day of 5774.
The last day of the last year in which Sam lived.
And I can't quite get myself to the end.
Obviously, it will come. The time will tick by, the calendar will flip over, and 5775 will be here.
Will I ever be ready for another year to come in?
Will I ever feel the press of time without wishing I could stop it, and return, go back, to the days before?
Time moves forward.
The world carries on.
And we carry him in our hearts....into this new year and for always.
I feel just as fragile now as I did when we turned the calendar over to 2014.
And so I'll say the same thing:
...So we face 5775...our first Rosh HaShanah without Sam.
I am paralyzed when I think of all that he will miss. I am overwhelmed and breathless when I imagine the future and he's just not there. Yet I know that we will awaken each day, and we will move forward, even if it feels like we're slogging through a thick fog, even if it feels like we're just moving for the sake of moving, even if it feels like we're faking every moment...we will keep going.
5775, here we come. Be gentle on us, please.
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| Photo by Martha Abelson |
1 comment:
Thank you for continuing to share your words. They resonate deeply. Warm Boston wishes for a gentle 5775.
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