The Matriarch
Tante sleeps in morphine comfort. Thank G_d for peaceful comfort. Thank G_d for peaceful sleep. In ninety-five years she held court from anywhere ... a kitchen sink, a kitchen counter, a vegetable garden, a dining table, a potters' wheel and kiln.
"As clay are we, as soft and yielding clay
That lies between the fingers of the potter.
At her will she moulds it thick or thin,
And forms its shape according to her fancy.
So are we in Thy hand, G_d of love;
Remember Your promise and show Thy mercy." (after an anonymous poem from the Yom Kippur liturgy)
Tante took care of everyone with loving acceptance. She created a home for all the cousins who had not enough home in their houses. She shared beauty with those who had known only ugliness. A bowl of fresh fruit and a platter of fresh cheese always stood ready for the appetite. No one would go hungry here. Home-made blankets and wraps rested on the backs of chairs and sofas ready to warm someone's chill. No one would freeze in her home.
Tante once told me a secret. She said that my mother would never ever tell me about this most important pathway in life. My mother likes everything clean and in order, like new, like untouched by human hands. My Tante said that in fifty years everyone would judge me by the character of my children not by the perfection of my house. I nodded in agreement. It made great sense to do the people-thing first. Then my Tante and I laughed about the fluffy towels.
My family and I came to visit with my parents. The kids had taken their baths in the evening before bedtime. I wanted a shower in the morning. So, I went to the closet to get a towel. I picked a new soft fluffy towel. My mother said that I had picked the wrong towel as she plucked that soft fluffy thing from my hands. Apparently I had picked the towel that she was saving for special company. Wasn't I special enough? That question gave her pause. Then I reached out to retrieve the special soft and very fluffy towel. Her hands released their grip. Yes, I was special.
My Tante knew that everyone and every moment had the potential to be most special. The matriarch of my family has moved on to other places...
Tante once told me a secret. She said that my mother would never ever tell me about this most important pathway in life. My mother likes everything clean and in order, like new, like untouched by human hands. My Tante said that in fifty years everyone would judge me by the character of my children not by the perfection of my house. I nodded in agreement. It made great sense to do the people-thing first. Then my Tante and I laughed about the fluffy towels.
My family and I came to visit with my parents. The kids had taken their baths in the evening before bedtime. I wanted a shower in the morning. So, I went to the closet to get a towel. I picked a new soft fluffy towel. My mother said that I had picked the wrong towel as she plucked that soft fluffy thing from my hands. Apparently I had picked the towel that she was saving for special company. Wasn't I special enough? That question gave her pause. Then I reached out to retrieve the special soft and very fluffy towel. Her hands released their grip. Yes, I was special.
My Tante knew that everyone and every moment had the potential to be most special. The matriarch of my family has moved on to other places...
No comments:
Post a Comment