Yesterday was David’s 81st birthday and the first night of Passover. The day before he had one of those days where his cognitive functioning and his speech capacity were limited. He seemed quieter than usual and not expressive , rather vague and far away.
Yesterday morning he was back. He wanted to talk. A lot. He seemed very aware how fragile his life is and I could feel his concern. We had scheduled two calls with dear friends for the day and he was not sure he would actually be able to communicate.
When his best friend of 60 years zoomed us a sweet conversation ensued. Towards the end David’s friend Reuben asked David what it is like for him to know that he is losing a lot of his functioning. David’s answer was that he has learned to live in the world of no thought for much of the time. He was very matter of fact as he spoke. For the very first time I really understood who David has become. I live in the world of thoughts. The thoughts often collide and a lot of consternation is part of my life. The role of caregiver for me has a lot of worry and concern and sadness at the losses I see happening daily. But I had noticed without fully registering that he was fine most of the time. Actually seems rather content. I do know the times when he is not that and I admit that for me those are so disturbing that I think I have globalized them and missed how at ease he usually is.
Later that day I prepared a seder for the two of us. I knew it would be simplified but we had all we needed. Matza, gefilte fish, horseradish, and charoset. And we had a full seder plate (almost) and a beautifully set table. Those are my essences in order to feel it is a real seder. We began simply following the order. Lit candles, said Kiddush, handwashed, dipped dandelion greens in salt water, broke the middle matza and put the Afikoman in its little bag. All of that took about 7 minutes. Then it came time to recite the Passover story. I asked David what he thought Freedom meant. This is a question we have asked every seder for many many years. He did not hesitate. He clearly said. “ It is not holding onto thoughts. If you can let them go you are free, when you cannot do that you are not free.” And then he was quiet. I have heard a thousand replies over the years to that question. None pierced me like those words, perhaps the residual from his earlier conversation with Reuben. I did the only thing left to do. I said nothing and went directly to eating the matza and then the beautiful meal. We spent most of the seder remembering the many seders in our past. Seders in Israel, a seder in Tokyo, one in Woodstock, last year with dear friends in Indiana, several in Philadelphia with other very special friends, seders on long retreats, a tea ceremony seder in San Francisco, more tea ceremony seders with dear friends in San Miguel de Allende. Seders with many people, seders with just us. We have been blessed to have lived these very precious lives.