Sleep? Who Needs Sleep!
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This is what happens when I can't sleep. I think. I think about my day, and I replay events and situations over and over again. Then I hop on the computer and see the James Goodman epic poem of Selma and Rabbi Lipnick. And I think of Rabbi Lipnick. The first time I met him. His kindness as he approached me. A new face. Over time, his love of Neviyah. Always telling us that her eyes had old soul in them. Her reaching toward him. His taking her in his arms when he had no strength to do so.
Then, inevitably, I start thinking of him being gone which leads to thought of Arthur Greenberg. His last email. About his dog's romance with Susan Brown's dog. His last cd mix which suddenly I cannot find. His emails about Lila. How proud he was of her. Then I hop on Facebook and find her page. We are not FB friends but I can still see her wall, her photos. I wonder how she really is under all of that teenager stuff. I want her to be okay.
That takes me to my children. Neviyah. So sweet, sleeping next to me. Her feet resting on my stomach. I worry about her nightly nightmares of lions biting her, spilled juices, friends not sharing toys. Alia. My thoughtful but unable to cope firstborn. I want to wrap her in my arms and melt away her angst. She has started an endangered animals club at school, you know. Five minutes on Tuesdays at the water fountain after school. Serious stuff. The stuff of compassion. Chandler. So old, so young. The potential is there. He just keeps whizzing by it. There are those moments when I get a glimpse of his core, and I am impressed by it.
And then, when I get through these thoughts, and realize it is 4:38 a.m. and I have to be up in one and a half hours, ready to start the day, be productive, I make the decision to try again. Try again to sleep. Good night, Rabbi Lipnick. I miss you.
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This is what happens when I can't sleep. I think. I think about my day, and I replay events and situations over and over again. Then I hop on the computer and see the James Goodman epic poem of Selma and Rabbi Lipnick. And I think of Rabbi Lipnick. The first time I met him. His kindness as he approached me. A new face. Over time, his love of Neviyah. Always telling us that her eyes had old soul in them. Her reaching toward him. His taking her in his arms when he had no strength to do so.
Then, inevitably, I start thinking of him being gone which leads to thought of Arthur Greenberg. His last email. About his dog's romance with Susan Brown's dog. His last cd mix which suddenly I cannot find. His emails about Lila. How proud he was of her. Then I hop on Facebook and find her page. We are not FB friends but I can still see her wall, her photos. I wonder how she really is under all of that teenager stuff. I want her to be okay.
That takes me to my children. Neviyah. So sweet, sleeping next to me. Her feet resting on my stomach. I worry about her nightly nightmares of lions biting her, spilled juices, friends not sharing toys. Alia. My thoughtful but unable to cope firstborn. I want to wrap her in my arms and melt away her angst. She has started an endangered animals club at school, you know. Five minutes on Tuesdays at the water fountain after school. Serious stuff. The stuff of compassion. Chandler. So old, so young. The potential is there. He just keeps whizzing by it. There are those moments when I get a glimpse of his core, and I am impressed by it.
And then, when I get through these thoughts, and realize it is 4:38 a.m. and I have to be up in one and a half hours, ready to start the day, be productive, I make the decision to try again. Try again to sleep. Good night, Rabbi Lipnick. I miss you.
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Comments
Love you Miss Kimmie.