...of counting the Omer: Hod sh-b'Chesed; beauty/grace within generosity.
We used to count together, these days between Pesach and Shavuot.
If one of us were travelling, we would count together on the telephone.
I light up and am grateful; and at the same time I cry for missing Zalman. Counting alone is not the same, even if I think of so many of us all over the world counting the same count, on the same evening.
I have enjoyed the gift of a second day of rest and renewal of spirits. I got to walk in the wonderful Open Space paths near here with a friend. I got to read, and to write, to put out water for the birds and see a rufous-sided towhee nibble seeds on the back deck. I am trying to decide whether to regard the dandelions as desired flowers rather than weeds. (There are many recipes for dandelion wine, but most of them start with "Take five gallons of dandelion heads...")
Zalman and I had the custom of calling as many of his children as we could reach on Sunday mornings. I kept it up, both to reach out to them for myself, and to continue a custom that I thought had been nourishing. Now I sometimes wonder if it might be experienced as an annoyance or an obligation, only they are too polite to tell me. Nevertheless, today I reached some members of the extended family, and left others messages. So much family was an entirely new experience for me---the only child of an only child.
I think I have managed to streamline my on-line petition-signing and letter-writing.
I am ready to spend the bright hours of the morning continuing what I had left off after the election.
I send blessings to you for the coming week, whatever it may bring.