Death, Home, Journeys, Judaism, Miracles, New Paths, People


I dreamt
of my grandfather
last night. That he
held an inlaid prayer book
and wanted to accompany me to
the class that I take now, in his
memory, with his books, to learn what
he always said I needed to learn but was
never ready, while he was alive. I dreamt of him
and woke, knowing I walk in his footsteps, proudly.

I walked
with my rabbi
this morning. And
found out, from a friend
that the idea for this walk
came from the priest, now passed on
who knew that even as he couldn’t walk on
his own degenerated legs, that everyone else
needed this time, and he started the tradition that
would continue after he had traveled onward, to a world beyond.

I listened
to the brightest
minds meet and discuss
our work that affects millions
continuing on in the tradition of
my mentor, who before he passed on, created
this community of passionate colleagues dedicated
to public service that the public doesn’t see, our energy
poured into insuring that what’s right can happen and fixing
what’s not yet right, so that greater society can flourish and thrive.

All this in one day, even before lunch.
No wonder I feel the weight of the work
but feel so lucky and grateful
that I’m able to play my part.


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