Yom Kippur tonight. My husband will start fasting.
Despite being a self-proclaimed atheist, he still observes this ritual. He says he does it to feel connected to his father, who also fasts.
Way back when we were first married, I, the shiksa wife, tried not eating for a day and it turned me into a total bitch! I decided fasting did not make me particularly spiritual. At least that was my excuse. My husband doesn’t even drink any water, for God’s sake! Which makes his breath really stink by sundown.
Anyway, today is also the 46th — yes, 46th! — anniversary of my father’s early death from esophogal cancer back in 1965. I had just started my freshman year of college.
I don’t know what happens after we die, but I know we are more than our physical “spacesuits.” We all add to the consciousness of humanity and to its future through our own evolution.
Perhaps it continues on another plane — or not. Or maybe karma recycles us. Whatever the mystery, I still find myself asking the quesion: “Where are you, Daddy?”
The shiksa wife? That is so Portnoy’s Complaint. One of my fave novels of all time, btw.
Atonement. You’ve noticed at-one-ment?
There’s a pretty good film out there by that name, as you surely know
http://movies.netflix.com/WiMovie/Atonement/70059993?trkid=2361637
Also therapist is the rapist? Dog/god, live/evil?
Coincidence?
Um, yes.
Cheers
geebert