Over

Journal entry by Eve Ilsen — 21 minutes ago

Pesach is really over.
It has been like living in a somewhat altered state of consciousness for more than a week, counting the preparations.  What freedoms stand out as attainable, desirable or threatened, this year?
Collectively or personally?

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Meanwhile, I have saved the last of the matzo of the second seder:  my beloved taught that the matzo of the first seder feeds faith; that of the second seder feeds healing.  So a small hand-thrown bowl on the living room table holds what remains of the matzo from the second seder; I have kept the custom of giving small bits of that second-seder-matzo as needed. There is often a little bit still left in the bowl as we return to Pesach the following year.
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Twice I have chanted the beginning verses of Shir haShirim this Pesach.  I remembered Zalman, z'l, writing a holy verse on the drywall of each room before we painted:  a verse from Song of Songs on the wall above where we knew we would place our bed.
I drove home after that last gathering, after the last chanting; after havdalah separated us from shabbbat until next week and from Pesach until next year.  Now, inevitably, I feel the stark reality of the other separations.  I notice that I assume I will somehow see my beloved again when it is my turn to die.
But what if he is off on another assignment, in another world?  What if he is already a baby with a mission somewhere else?  

Is there a heavenly bulletin board where we can leave messages for those after whom our hearts yearn? 

I wish us well during this week, as we count the Omer, of Gevurah.