I stood at the intersection of dreams and reality today trying to take it all in.
There in the back of the room I saw a man with a purple kipah standing next to a brunette whose hair was secured in the back with some kind of broach.
Didn’t require any effort to realize I knew them both but I suppose if I hadn’t been immediately certain the bells in my head would have made it clear.
It was coincidence that placed me in almost a direct line and I shook my head and looked skywards never expecting to find the answer I wanted but hoping nonetheless.
Looking For Dad
I said Kaddish tonight for the first time since dad died, outside of Shiva that is.
It was intentional but I haven’t decided if anger drove it or if it is sadness. Haven’t decided if it was a combination of the two.
Just before we began the rabbi said we could call out the names of loved ones and I came close to saying dad’s name except I knew I wouldn’t just say it.
My voice carries without much effort and I knew this would be one of those times where everyone in the room would know I was there and I didn’t want the attention.
Because when a moment I had dreamed about made it is appearance in reality I had to shake my head and smile.
It didn’t happen as I expected it to but then I again I don’t know what I expected.
All I know is a switch flipped a while back and a door opened and I didn’t hesitate to walk through it. I had promised myself I would be casual and cool, but I didn’t.
I took a look at it and started thinking about how to rip that fucker right off of the hinges.
Because I can.
Because I should.
Because it is necessary.
Tonight I was an almost 50 year-old man who wanted his father.
Wanted to talk about the mundane and tell pop that for the second time in my life I have seen the Dodgers win the pennant and lose the World Series in consecutive years.
Wanted to tell the old man that I have this very weird situation that I am working on and I am pretty certain I know what I am going to do, even if it makes no rational or logical sense,
“‘Cuz sometimes you have to follow your heart old man, sometimes you have to stop and do what is right for you.”
Hit The Wall Hard
More music plays and I shake my head because it almost feels ridiculous but then it doesn’t.
Maybe it is because I am trying to write out a symphony in my head or a dream that I can almost touch but can’t quite remember.
I flirt with trying to shake it all off and let it go because it feels like heart is leading head and the brain says Lucy will move the ball before you get a chance to kick it,
Except I once let science and reason drive everything and that led to a very dull path that didn’t have the shine I hoped for.
So now I look a different way and figure I’ll let the chips fall where they may because when you are at the intersection of dreams and reality you soon figure out your control is far more limited than you think it is anyway.