an Unforgettable Shabbat

[Since Robert's brother, Michael was staying with their father in the hospice home, Robert and one of his other brothers, Steve, came home for Shabbat for some desperately needed rest.]

Friday night it started snowing. Uncle Steve (Robert's brother) turned around at the window suddenly and said "hey! It's snowing!". Everyone was so excited, all the tried, droopy faces perked up instantaneously.

Then they all went out. At 7:30 pm. These Israeli children who have never experienced snow were *astounded*. And of course, we had no snow boots or gloves. We are desert dwellers!
So, we put plastic bags over shoes, and socks on little hands, and out they went! [notice the use of they here, excluding myself-- who grew up with lots & lots of snow and was happy to live it vicariously].

Night time, beautiful snow fall, four children playing on a wooden deck settled in a yard full of tall, bare trees. Trees that now have thin snow piles on each limb. It was just an amazing sight.

The next morning (Shabbat morning) the kids were up at 5:30 AM. Jet lag wins again.
By the time I came downstairs, Robert already had bundled up the kids and bagged-up their feet to play outside again. This is before the crack of dawn, mind you. (Oh- and it is Tu B'shvat- the holiday of the trees. In Israel, it is a time to plant trees and gardens. It is *warm* there!)

Then back inside, dry clothes, and breakfast. The day was well underway and it was only 6:30 AM.

Afternoon-- kiddush and Shabbat lunch (which had partly been prepared by a good family friend here), then outside again. More bags. It was so wonderful!! We all went this time- all of us and uncle Steve, too. We went on a little walk. It was quiet and crisp, and the snow was crunching underfoot. I know this seems so kitchy and poetic, but it is really true! And I hadn't seen or experienced snow in so long, it *was* special even for me, this seasoned New York & New Englander.

We returned invigorated, chilled, damp, and satisfied. The rest of the afternoon was spent reading books out loud snuggled under blankets, and playing games.
Picturesque, really.

The end of Shabbat came, and with it, a phone call.
................

He's passed on.

I am typing from his computer now. Everything in this house suddenly seems free-floating.

He'll be buried in New York, next to his beloved wife.
But the airport is shut down because of the snow, so things might take a day or two.
We'll go to New York soon, there are so many details to work out.
I will probably come back to Israel without Robert- he'll have to sit shiva with his brothers in New York.

We all said good-bye to Dolph in our own loving ways. It was truly right, if death is ever in the "right" category. He got to see his children, grand children, and he made a point of asking me how I am. Apparently he had asked repeatedly about how I am-- every time he woke up out of his coma, he wanted to know three things: where is he, what happened, and how is Sarah. Amazing. When I saw him on Thursday, he asked how I am, and I got to tell him that I am good- that there is no more disease in my hip. He smiled with his eyes shut contentedly.

The news came and [two of] the children cried. Later, I cried.

And now I think I am out of poetics for tonight.

It was definitely an unforgettable Shabbat.