Letters To Tuvia #242:A Rainy Sunday (6-5-16)

Morning T,

It’s Sunday morning and soon I’ll be back on the road headed to Panera on rt17 to meet Helen and drive with her to Staten Island for Roz’s unvieling.  Roz’s funeral was the last one you atteneded before your own.  We never took this ride to Staten Island.  It was enough to just be present for the funerals but today it feels right to be there for Roz, for Marla and for the family.

Today is also the Israeli Day Parade and if you were here and up for it I would have been trying to talk you out of it because it’s already raining.  It would have been hard to convince you and maybe I would have had to just give in.  I’m remembering how many times we showed up for this day in NYC, once we even walked the whole parade with a group from Hebrew University. We were both excited and energized to participate but most years we left the house early, parked on west 57th, then walked or took a cab over to 5th and grabbed a spot near the start of the parade around St. Patrick’s.  It was exciting to be early and then once it started and one after the next local synagogue passed us, it seemed to lose it’s initial power.  I was always ready to head for a lunch spot when you gave your signal, enough!

Every one of our ritruals has beomce larger than life now.

It’s been a very busy weekend.  Princeton with Dani and Assia and as always the empty chair on my right held my bag and it should have been there for you.  They were wonderful and yes, I slept in their house, in Aton’s room, who, is moving to Israel, connecting with his roots.  Dani is thrilled, Ami is thrilled.

We strolled Nassau St., took selfies to document our time together and chatted.  It was an easy trip home and time for a nap before I left again for dinner with Andrea, Jose and some of their close friends.  Japanese food- good.  You would have had something to eat too.

Time to get moving- quick shower, dress and move out of the house.  I know T.  You approve of living on the move.  I’m finding a balance now between movement and staying put in my space.

Missing our life together,

Bonnie S.

 

 

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