last December blues
December 20th's been and gone, and the Hebrew date of my father's death has also passed. The past couple of weeks were very strange, surreal and sad for me, but now that December is about to end I feel as if the wave of sorrow is lifting. I don't know what it was about this year that got me so hard. I started feeling the pain of his loss as early as November.
At work, I was designing a memorial book for a soldier who died during the Yom Kippur war, in October 20th 1973. It was extremely sad and moving, and while I was working on it, I often got chocked up and tearful. On the last page, there was a poem that really stayed with me, ,long after I finished the project (doesn't say who wrote it, but I believe it's the soldier's mother, as the song refers to her). This poem, in its simplicity, conveys many of the feelings I have for this whole death thing... The feelings I have for the date, the futility of mourning. So here it is, for the memory of my dad.
עשרים באוקטובר, 1978
בשֶׁקֶם תל-אביב.
אישה שְׁחוּחָה כותבת תאריך על צֶ'ק:
20/10/73.
שבעים ושמונה גברת, לא שבעים ושלוש,
קורא הקופאי, צוֹחֵק...
קוֹפֵא על מקומו, מְלַחֵשׁ...
מה אפשר לעשות גברת... מה אפשר לעשות...
This is a very Israeli poem. I don't know if it translates well, but here you go:
Shekem Department Store, Tel-Aviv
October 20, 1978
A stooped-over woman writes a date on a check: 20/10/73.
'78 Madam, not '73,
exclaims the cashier, laughing…
freezes in his place, whispers…
What can one do Madam, what can one do…