[img]2553|right|Diane||no_popup[/img]On the way home last evening, my son telephoned to say he would be coming by to visit us – which meant stopping to pick up an order of pizzas.
My Israeli friend who owns the pizza store was his typical jovial self at the dinner hour. As I peered around the corner of the counter where he was preparing an order, he called out, “everything all right?” He was not expecting the answer “no.”
“What is it?” he said.
Lowering my voice, I said we needed to speak more privately.
Eli is a young man. When I told him about Diane’s condition, his face sagged and turned ashen. The entire room’s attitude softened, even though no one else could hear us.
He has conducted research about ALS, and was intimately familiar with the disease.
I relate this preamble because the comfort that he offered was profound and memorable. It should not have been, but it was a revelation to me.
“Look at it this way,” Eli said.
“What if, God forbid, she had been killed in a car accident?
“Poof. She was here a minute ago, and now she is gone. No goodbyes, not anything.
“I know it probably is not helpful, but look at the time that you two have been given by HaShem (God). A gift. Just the two of you. Time alone. Quietly. Whether you prepare for the future or reflect on what your life together has been like?
“You see,” said Eli, “you really are blessed. This is a gift.”
