Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore— While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. “’Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door—
By I'm getting ahead of myself.
It's a week since Daddy died.
Davie and I rose from Shiva this morning after going to synagogue for morning prayers. Then I hopped on the highway and came to Niagara Falls for Becca's final dance competition of the season.
When Daddy was diagnosed I told him there is more than this life, this world. Mama is still with me, but just communicates with me by different means now. He said he wasn't so sure, but hoped I was right. I told him I was, and he'd see.
When we buried Dad the skies were grey with pockets of blue sky and rays of sunshine peeking through the clouds. As the cars pulled up to the Feld (cemetery) rain drops appeared on the car window. The rainfall got heavier and by the time we opened the door to bury Dad it was a full blown downpour/hailstorm. Sheets of rain and hail pelted us as we shovelled earth onto my father's coffin and recited the mourners' Kaddish (prayers). As we said the final words of Kaddish the rain and hail stopped, and rays of sunshine began to peek through the clouds again. By the time we left the Feld, drenched through to our skin, the sky was bright with sunshine.
This morning, as I drove to Shul (synagogue) the heavens were crying once again. David and I went inside to pray and when we came outside to walk around the Shul and rise from Shiva we found rays of sunshine streaming through the emptied clouds. For me this was a sign...Daddy is here, he's with Mama and they are with us, sending us signs that we are not alone.
Then I drove to Niagara and sat to watch the dancers. I sat alone in the back, wanting a few minutes of quiet...to regroup...when the next dance came on...the first for me at this competition: The Raven...the "music" began...a simple recitation of a poem: "Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary..." He was here with me. It was the sign I've been waiting for.
Am I sad? Deeply. Am I heartbroken? There are no words. But the silver lining in this tornado is that he is with me...my parents live on and are all around me. And for now, that will have to be enough.