It is nine months since my mother died. I still have difficulties being alone. Too many memories, too many things to say... into an empty space. Ever since I remember myself, I was always wrestling to get away from her heavy Jewish mother embraces. Always in a rush somewhere, always viewing her request to sit next to her as an imposition. There are so many things to do, no time to sit down. My dream to get away came true more than thirty years ago, when I came to the States and my parents went to Israel. Yet, even being on the other continent, hasnt satisfy my desire to get away, so every time I visit my mom in Israel, we would replay the same thing: sit next to me, -- Mom, later, I have to do something. We never talked much, even though she liked to read as much as I did. She loved to recite Russian poetry and quote Russian and Soviet songs at the right occasion. But in terms of our communication, there was never time, nor desire -- on my part. I called a lot, but it was the usual phone calls, barely scratching the surface. Why all of a sudden, I am now plagued by this desire to say more and more. Of course, I say a lot when I teach or write, but I cant help but feel that it is some sort of substitution. Of course, we understood and felt each other well enough, and I had a chance to be with her when she was very sick, but still, how can I rid myself of this maddening and hopeless dream of finding so many right words, if only Ive heard one more time: stop rushing, just seat down next to me.
Posted on: Tue, 11 Nov 2014 23:46:07 +0000