From the Imagination of Dr. Nicki: Real Life - Stories I Never Knew... Part 8

I hope you are enjoying my current blog feature, "From the Imagination of Dr. Nicki"… It spotlights original fiction by me. These stories never happened… They are original fiction pieces from my imagination!

Over the course of these two weeks, I'm presenting "Stories I Never Knew...", a 12-part fictional blog story. I hope you enjoy it. Today, I present PART 6. If you missed any of the previous parts, here are those links to read first:

PART 1 - http://drnickimonti.blogspot.com/2016/09/from-imagination-of-dr-nicki-real-life_19.html

PART 2 - http://drnickimonti.blogspot.com/2016/09/from-imagination-of-dr-nicki-real-life_20.html

PART 3 - http://drnickimonti.blogspot.com/2016/09/from-imagination-of-dr-nicki-real-life_21.html

PART 4 - http://drnickimonti.blogspot.com/2016/09/from-imagination-of-dr-nicki-real-life_22.html

PART 5 - http://drnickimonti.blogspot.com/2016/09/from-imagination-of-dr-nicki-real-life_23.html

PART 6 - http://drnickimonti.blogspot.com/2016/09/from-imagination-of-dr-nicki-real-life_24.html

PART 7 - http://drnickimonti.blogspot.com/2016/09/from-imagination-of-dr-nicki-real-life_26.html

For as long as I could remember - from the time I could speak and until the day he died - Grandfather and I played a game we called Hide & Seek. Not the one where you find a place to secure yourself away – but a game of questions…or perhaps better said, a wandering through wonderings. It always worked the same.

I’d pull up a stool to where he sat, surrounded by dusty texts and curling pipe tobacco. “What is Sin, Grandfather?”

Grandfather would smooth his wiry beard between thumb and middle finger and cock his head, as if preparing an exquisite answer. “Ah, Sin.” He’d nod, then shake back and forth, then nod again. “What is Sin, little one?” he’d ask, as if the question were his in the first place.

“I think it must be when you do really bad things that need punishing,” I replied.

“Perhaps,” Grandfather said sweetly. “Or perhaps it is a state of mind. A place of darkness that prepares us to see a more beautiful sunrise.”

I never very well understood these statements. To me, Grandfather was always speaking in riddles. Still, I’d let the words float down upon me, like colored bubbles blown from one of those special wands. I’d feel them softly break against my cheeks, leaving the barest trace before seeming to disappear altogether.

Now, as I sat pondering last night’s dream, I asked, “How can I grow large enough to hold the Torah Scrolls? To open to their wisdom?” In my mind’s eye, I could see Grandfather’s answer, clear as fresh-washed windows. “How can you grow…up?”   

The question brought immediate tears to my eyes. Right away I recognized the truth the question implied. I wondered if this heretofore unclaimed reluctance was responsible for my being in my twenties and still single – a fact that sincerely troubled my family. I thought back on that day in the kitchen when poor mother’s world had screeched to a stop in the face of my brother’s decision. I thought now of the disdainful eyes through which I had viewed her. What if it was my attitude towards my own family that kept my hands so small and my heart so unavailable?

A darkness had descended. Great purple tears of salt and need splashed down my cheeks. “Perhaps tomorrow,” I smiled through the tears, “there will be a beautiful sunrise.”