something to mention about time

Time…is moving…very…slowly.

How slow is it moving?  I look up at the clock and realize…that it has been almost exactly a week since she died. A week and three hours.

I’m awake in Tel Aviv, watching the clock crawl past 2:30am. Crrrrawl.

sleep

Today is a little better than yesterday. My strange fever (yes, the one that struck the day after she was buried) broke by morning today after a night of Tylenol and cold towels.

My emotions calmed. Because I am not avel (parent, spouse, sibling, or child of the deceased) and I am allowed out of “the house,” (aka our hotel) I went for a walk to Carmel market (HaCarmel Shouk), where I purchased snacks for the family to eat (bissli chips, pistachio nougat, baklava, strawberries)…and challah bread for Shabbat.

I felt shaky on my feet, but looked up and was able to ignore my imbalance.

The market is incredible–it reminds me of the markets in Korea, full of noise and yelling vendors and food products and crowds, the kind of life that should surround a market, and a reminder of life that goes on outside the four walls of where we are sitting shiva. Carmel market will now hold a special place in my heart forever.

Seeing all that bustling life gave me fortitude.

Still fragile. But hanging on. It gets really bad, but I cling on, we all do, holding our breath, waiting to surface for a few seconds before we submerge once again.

Now I have an incredible desire to sleep and sleep and sleep.