Thursday - upside down

There is a tear in the fabric of the universe. Up is down and down is up. The center does not hold. I was on the bus this morning at a little after 7 am when my cell phone rang. It was the rabbi's wife. For some strange reason it didn't occur to me immediately, as it should have, how odd it was - not that she called me, but that she did so at 7:15 am. She said she was at H's house - that strange fact didn't register either - and said she had some terribly sad news - H's husband M had died suddenly that morning. Today. Just today. At the beginning of this day M was alive. Now he is not. How do I make sense of this fact? I went on to work and told them I had to leave. I called and David came and picked me up and took me to H's house.

How can it be that this has happened? (Oh, I know the terrible facts - an aneurysm, probably aorta, the EMTs were there almost immediately but still too late.)

The jolt of shock gives way to bone deep weariness, to wrenching sadness. He was a gentle soul, a brilliant mind, unfailingly kind, committed to family, community, colleagues and math. How can it be I won't be out tomorrow - or ever again - in the early morning, walking Ella as M comes riding up the block toward me on his bike - bundled up in wool hat and gloves even on a spring's chill morning - to call out, "Good morning, Laurie." How can it be I won't call back, "Good morning, M!"

Every day from the day M learned that I battled cancer, M said a mishaberach - a blessing for health - for me in synagogue where he went every morning and every afternoon/evening for daily prayers. Every day, my name, a blessing, for health. How can it be there is no time for me to say a prayer for M's health, for his recovery, for his life. How can it be that M was snatched away - from H, from his children, from his work, from his shul, from his friends, snatched away at 64. Too soon, so much too soon. Too cruel. How can it be?

I don't know how to pray any more, I don't know to whom I pray when I find a shaky path there, but there I find myself tonight and so I pray - May M's memory be a blessing most rich and wonderful, lasting and affirming, enfolding H and his children through long nights ahead to lighter days, may M's memory bring his kindness and compassion to comfort each of us his memory touches. How grateful I am to be among them.

Peace, peace be upon M's soul, now and always.