Wow.

I saw someone said recently that when the clocks changed this year we went from Standard Time to Twilight Zone. Seems more and more true all the time.

Oh, JZ.

Ever since my quarantine was over, every minute I could stay awake was full of hectic things-to-do and chasing my tail in attempts to try and do all of it. I only logged in to my computer for work, I couldn't afford anything else, but on rare seconds of I-have-to-sit-down-for-a-minute, I went to B.org on my phone. I couldn't *not* know how my beloved Buffistas are doing in such trying times. So I haven't skipped. Maybe sometimes skimmed a bit, but made sure I know how each and every one of you who updated was doing.

I don't type wel with just my two thumbs, so I didn't even dare to try to post, fearing it may take me too much time, which was a luxury I couldn't afford (what with working from home, only way way more hours than the regular work hours, and both kids being at home needing my attention, and getting ready for Pessakh, which is the most demanding holiday of the year, I was behind on each and every possible front).

But I just had to take a short break from all my Pessakh preparations and log in to my computer, on which I can acually type, just to send you all my love, and prayers, and thoughts and love.

I mean, it's to all of you, each and every one of you, as well (and I don't start to name names only because I don't want to risk forgetting anybody. But I'm constantly reading, at every possible opportunity I find - the minute I got back into the habit of reading-not-skipping, I couldn't stop). I want to make sure my loved ones are as safe as they could possibly be in this complicated difficult period, and y'all are definitely part of that group. I mean, I want as many people as possible to be as healthy and as safe as possible, but some even more than others. I'm reading and hoping and worrying and wishing. I'm totally lurkers-support-each-and-every-one-of-you-even-without-email.

Oh, I'm making this all meMeME, and that's just the opposite of the reason that made me do it in the first place.

JZ, from all across the ocean, and from years and years of not-enough communication, I just wanted to hug you in what is practically the only possible way now, just in spirit, in words and emotions and in all there is in a hug other that the actual arms.

I was so worried for you when you were heartbroken about being sick and isolated when he was first admitted, not ebing able to be with him physically, carrying so much burden with understanding and deciding and supporting others. You did so much good in such a difficult situation. He would probably have been so very proud of you. He probably is.

And then it turned out to be such a strange blessing, because your being sick and recovering made it possible for them to let you visit him. And it's such a grace, for all involved - definitely for you, to say your goodbyes, and of course for him, to have tangible proof of the love for him that so many people feel and try to convey through you. But also for each and every member of your family. Knowing that even if they couldn't express their love and care, somebody they trusted so, somebody who could do just to their emotions and love and longing and sorrow, was there.

And reading your descriptions, that's just what you've done, in your lovely caring meaningful way.

I remember the last time I've seen my father alive. It was two days before he passed away, and it was obvious that these were his final days. He was so weak and fragile. He was at home by then (he was so weak, and there was nothing they could do for him at the hospital, and he preferred being at home, in his own bed, rather than anywhere else). Pi++Girl was a baby of two months old at the time (oh, how grateful I am that he not only managed to see her, but also to see her smile), and PiBoy was only tow years old.

We couldn't spend long periods of time at my parents' place, because the noise and mess and action brought in by a then-two-years-old energetic toddler were too much for my father, so we tried to arrive for short visits whenever we could (the arrival of the grandchildren were a breath of fresh air for my mother, who (continued...)

( continues...) needed that so very much at the time).

I remember this last visit so well. I remember where I sat, how I held Pi++then-baby, how he was too weak to talk or even communicate in any way, but he was still present. It was how it was writen above - his body was still functioning, while he was gradually leaving the world in his spirit.

And I remember how I sat there and very deliberately said my goodbyes. I didn't know that it was the last time I'd see him, but I knew there wouldn't be much time after that. And I knew that *I* had to let go, that I had to part from him. And every time I feel like there were things that were left untold and unsolved between us (as there so often are with parents and children, and with people in general), I reurn to that moment, in which I sat alone in a room with my dying father and my so-young baby, and crystalized my love and asking-for-forgiveness and letting-go of all things that couldn't be amended. I keep returning to that moment. I go yearly to me father's grave (though this year COVID19 may prevent me from doing that), but the most tangible thing for me is not the stone on top of his grave, but the clear memory of that moment.

What I'm trying to say with all that meMeME couldn't-matter-less-to-anybody-else at such times, is that you've created such a beautiful moment, such an important memory, for all your family, to return to. You've filled your parting with grace and love and care, not just longing and sorrow. For all those who loved him. And it's so very important, currently, and for it as a memory to add to all good memories from him.

And taking Matilda's card with you means that she's part of that, in the deepest sense. She's obviously angry and aching now, how can she not? But she'll find out, when she can, that there's also that. And I hope it brings her some comfort.

And it's like Trudy said so wisely - she'd probably be angry, no matter what, because she's angry at the whole siuation, at losing her grandfather, at the world being so crazy and out of so much of what makes it her world. So you are the target, because she trusts you to be able to contain it, to not-shatter at it. And it's so hard, to carry that on top of everything, and that's part of what love means in such strange complicated times.

I wish I knew what to say. Um, I mean, I've used such large paragraphs right now trying to figure out what to say, I'm sitting with the laptop in my lap instead of doing a thousand other things, just in order to reach out, to say something, but I've spent all those paragraphs meMeME-ing because I don't really know what to say. There's nothing anyone can say that can change anything. So I'd better just shut my keybord, and wish I could use my arms for a hud from afar.

Take care. The waiting is draining, and it may get worse before it starts getting beter, and the sorrow never really ends. And lacking the comfort of being able to go through it with so many others is even more difficult. However, at some point the good memories won't be drowned by that sorrow, but rather accompany it. And what you did today will definitely help in that process, for so many people.

I'm not able to write anything that doesn't seem to me as condescending or awkward or off-the-point, so I'll stop now. All I really wanted to write, when taking away the meMeME parts, is {{JZ}} and {{Hec}} and {{Matilda}} and {{all your family}}.

These days, when someone crosses the street to avoid coming anywhere near me, I'm not insulted (it's mostly neighbors walking their dogs).

{{JZ}} The world has indeed gone mad.

Timelies all!

{{{{JZ}}}} I'm sorry you had to deal with awful people on the bus, in addition to all the crap you're dealing with.

Oh, Nilly, love. Every word of that is a balm. Thank you for sharing your heart with us.

Dear lord, JZ. Dear lord. And why, people. Why.

This whole situation seems to be bringing out both the best and the worst in people.

This whole situation seems to be bringing out both the best and the worst in people.

Indeed.

I am trying to log into work email, but I'm a bit nervous because I think I snapped at one of my (most stupid) coworkers yesterday and I'm worried I'm gonna hear about it.

JZ, I'm so sorry you had to deal with all of that on top of everything else. I hope Mr. Garbage comes to his senses and realizes he was horrible, but I doubt he will. (He's probably the kind of guy who gets upset about women not smiling at him on the street when he tells them to.)