Tuesday, February 17, 2009
780. To my baby cousin on the occasion of his bris
Welcome, Yosef Yitzchak
one last click of a lock in a door.
But on this side, the smell of cupcakes with sprinkles
as a little girl in a princess costume
twirls in front of a superhero's cape
blue and white, draped over her father's shoulders
curling like a waterfall into a pool
when he sits on the sofa
and tries not to faint
as my new cousin floats on a pillow in his lap
and then screams louder than all the Jewish people.
A drop of sweet wine on the lips,
a small sigh, a nap
the air is light
and I open the door once again.
It is quite amazing that this bris coincided with the last day of shloshim for my brother, the traditional 30 days of mourning. I had erroneously calculated that shloshim ended on Tuesday, but received a call from a member of the Hevra Kadisha of my synagogue on Monday night asking how I was doing, and if they could be of any help now that this time had passed. How incredible to belong to a community that keeps track of such things better than I do.