From the Imagination of Dr. Nicki: Real Life - Stories I Never Knew... Part 9

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 9. 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

PART 8 - http://drnickimonti.blogspot.com/2016/09/from-imagination-of-dr-nicki-real-life_27.html

I’ve always loved best prayers delivered in Hebrew. Grandfather said the Hebrew alphabet is magical and has powers beyond ordinary speech. It felt like that. The way the words and letters would tickle down inside me like fragile notes played on a harp by a carefully dressed, dreamy-eyed girl. Blessings are the most delicious of all. Like sprinkling sugar throughout the world. Everything tastes better after a blessing.

When I was very small I used to make up my own prayer blessings, and then Grandfather would translate them into Hebrew. May the joys of the Heavens bless the sorrows of the Heart. Hasidei ha’shamayim yibrachim hevel halev.

The first time I told Grandfather this one he smiled. Much later he told me, “Remember, dear one, sorrows are as important to the heart as joys. For when the heart weeps it understands the weeping of others. And with enough of these weepings the heart becomes great and kind and good.”  

One Friday afternoon David and I were playing on the backyard swings. I was feeling particularly exuberant that day and soon began to swing with increasing gusto. David was near by, absently tossing his blue rubber ball up into the air.  Suddenly, out of nowhere, there he was – his head right in front of my up swinging feet. Too late to break or veer. Down he went with a scream and a thud.

Grandfather and Mama both came running out. By then, I’d jumped off the menacing swing and was bent over him, crying and screaming. Grandfather pulled me away and Mama lifted David’s little body into her arms, smoothing his dirt-covered brow. He looked up at her and smiled. “I’m fine Mama. I’m fine.” He shook her away. Much too big a boy now to be held by his mother, I suppose. “What happened?” she said with a tone dripping in motherly accusation. “Nothing,” David replied casually. “It was an accident. I wasn’t looking and got in the way.” Never in all my life before did I love my brother as much.

Mama looked momentarily suspicious but it was Friday and there was Seder to prepare, so mom accepted David’s explanation and returned to the kitchen.

Friday. My favorite night of the week. I didn’t really know how it was in other families but in my house Friday was the best. Every week Mama would make a special meal and a different family member would light the menorah candles. Then we’d say one of those delicious blessings (sometimes they’d even let me say one of mine) and afterwards Grandfather would deliver what we called a Torah Tale. It was through these stories that I came to understand and to love the journey of my people. To feel the ancestral procession marching inside me.  

I think often now of those special Friday nights – when my family all gathered in a sacred way. Mama used to say it was important to remember that all over the world Jewish families were also honoring the Sabbath, lighting the menorah candles, and remembering. She said, no matter what, we must appreciate that family is eternal. And that it is everywhere.