Darkness and Light      

Instead, I’ll write about the way the sun set as Shabbos slipped away and the Jerusalem sky turned a deep color blue I’d never seen before as if the heavens themselves were heavy with tears the color of grief. I can write about the pain that came roaring back as the flame of Havdalah went out, and as we wished each other a gut voch, I thought How? How can it be a good week?

I made a feeble attempt at mopping the floor, then turned to my husband and said I can’t breathe. He nodded because what is there to say?

I abandoned the floors and went into my room. My stomach kept knotting and I knew it was that intangible thing called anguish, only that it was so big, and would have been for one, but for 45… I can’t put this anywhere, I thought. I have no way to process this. And because I couldn’t do the floors nor look at the sink full of dishes, my mind raced through the pain of the parents, then the siblings, the cousins, friends, neighbors, chavrusas, rebbeim…