a glimpse into the future....

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July 28, 2030

Facebook registers 12 billionth user, surpasses earth in race for most members




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message erased

Every year when the waning days of Sefira and the 3 weeks come around and I'm around my friends and colleagues, I can feel this sense of unease grow ever so slowly like the stubble creeping down my neck.
The source of this tension is the usually hidden white hairs that suddenly make their bi-annual appearance when shaving is not allowed.
In contrast, the day after Tisha B'Av and Lag B'Omer one walks in to shul to a room full of baby faced men, relieved at being able to brutally eliminate these horrific reminders of their aging.

I think that Hashem sends us subtle reminders, to remind us that our years on this earth are limited.
He sends us white hairs and wrinkles amongst other not so subtle reminders.

Short messages on our answering machine.

"Hi..this is your father in heaven, just a little reminder that another year has gone..and you won't be here forever...can't wait to see you..."

These messages are duly erased as they come in, by use of shavers, dyes and botox.

I'm not saying that they shouldn't be erased, I'm just saying it might be worthwhile to listen to the message before the delete button is pressed, it just might be important.


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ultimate sadness | ultimate joy

There was once a boy and a girl.
They loved one another..very much

After a few years of being together
and wedded bliss..they..
...had a beautiful baby
that gave them such joy....

But the boy started hanging out
with the wrong crowd..which made the girl
....very sad

but she knew that he loved her..
.....and always
came home to her..

Then one day something terrible happened..
and the boy...dropped the baby..
and their sweet little child died.

The grief they felt was unbearable..
..and drove them slowly
....apart

He started spending less and less time at home..
and he started with terrible habits..
..which he picked up from his bad friends

She would sit at home and wait for him...
every night....faithfully
but not always would he come home...
...and when he was home, he seemed to not even notice her

But there was one day...that was different.
The day that their baby died.
He was serious and sober..on that day
They would make a small meal...a rememberance..
just the 2 of them...
And he'd look at her....and she at him..
with tears in their eyes
and so much love
and she knew
...she felt it in her heart...
that one day...
they'd have another child..
...and that filled her with joy.




May this be our last Tisha B'av



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Barriers

אֱלִי צִיּוֹן וְעָרֶיהָ כְּמוֹ אִשָּׁה בְּצִירֶיהָ

"Wail Tzion and her cities, like a woman in the pangs of childbirth"

The pangs of childbirth..
The unbearable pain that must accompany every new human on earth..

The anguish that separates the before and the after.

The world is comprised of myriads of barriers. Walls between people, between places and times.
Barriers that hinder connection.
I sit with my pregnant wife and marvel at this moving, living human being on her lap. So close, yet separated by this impenetrable barrier between unborn and born.
This is what makes the pain somewhat bearable.
The knowledge that, this anguish leads to a connection.
A bond between mother and daughter, father and son. A new life..

Cry..Yerushalayim...like a woman in childbirth. The anguish of separation made bearable by the hope of it's removal.

But not all barriers come with such visible outcomes and such knowledge.

There is the ultimate barrier. The mysterious separation that leaves us clueless as to the nature of the other side.
And that is death..
That crossing over..to another world that fills us with anguish bereft of consolation.

וְכִבְתוּלָה חֲגוּרַת שַׂק עַל בַּעַל נְעוּרֶיהָ

"..and like a young woman wearing sackcloth..mourning the man of her youth"

We say to Hashem..this is what it feels like to us.
True, we believe that these are birthpangs to our ultimate reunion.

But, I'm sorry, that's not what it feels like....



May our 2000 year labor finally open the barrier that will open all barriers...and may we see the innocent child that we know we can be....



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an oscillating summer memory

there was a time
....in my distant past
a time before every last
room was cooled artificially
before kids rooms had their own a/c..

I'd lay there in my bed...
old grey radio by my head..
trying desperately to place the staticy line..
on that half of millimeter on the AM dial
that would get me some kinda reception, no matter how pale
to the yankees game playing..
......to no avail

So I'd lay there in the summer evening heat..
twisting and turning between the sheets
it was then that I first came to know my strange friend
my four legged white buddy with his oscillating head

oh how he'd wash me with cool air for a precious few
before turning away, leaving me in a hot stew
as he rustles an unfastened paper in the far corner of the room
I patiently await his return.....not a moment too soon



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