The Food of Life (and Death)

"Yes."

The question posed was whether the Shiva food was good.

And, by the way, so were the hor d'oeuvres passed around at our next venue.

It was, to say the least, a strange day indeed.

A close friend died last week. On Monday I had eulogized him. Yesterday afternoon my wife, son and I visited with his family as they mourned his passing and remembered his life.

But that was not to be our only stop of the day. Another buddy, one who had coincidentally also attended the funeral, earlier had invited us to attend his step-daughter's book signing at Barnes and Noble, marking the introduction to the world of her brand new novel. There, she charmed us with her Q and A responses, as her not quite 6 week old son slept in a snuggly in the back of the room, pressed tightly against his father's chest.

It was as stark a transition, a contrast, as one could conjure, an end and several beginnings in juxtaposition, colliding in startlingly rapid sequence.

But about that food.

Years ago I had written a post entitled "the Shiva crasher", many who know me suggesting I would go anywhere for free bagels and lox. As it turns out, the person who had called to ask me for a review of the quality of this Shiva offering once had a friend who scoured the paper looking for the most promising locations for post funeral offerings. That friend had passed away several years ago, but, I was advised, the present inquiry was made in his memory and on his behalf. I am quite certain he would have headed to this apartment, where Zabar's best was there in abundance.

And maybe, if he had been sleuth enough, he might have attempted to maneuver his way to the post book signing celebration at the home of the mother and step-dad of the author. There, despite having recently filled my plate and my belly at the Shiva, I managed to chase continuously after the people serving the pass arounds.

The circle of life was never more starkly portrayed for me than yesterday. Merely several blocks and but a few minutes apart, what was, what is and what will be in unknowing conversation. Each marked with an understanding of the blessings of existence, one past and the other, both very much in the present and in anticipation of the future.

The connecting tissue, my wife and me.

And, oh yes, that food.