Pascal's Yahrzeit

Today is the 30th anniversary of my Dad's death. I planned to spend it resting at home until leaving in the early evening for my cousin Jeff's son's wedding up in Boynton Beach. But Rabbi Yossi called yesterday, and reminded me to come into shul to say Kaddish -- the prayer for the Dead. He's a true believer, of course, and I'm not, but I figure I might as well apply the famous Pascal's wager. Pascal said that belief in God cost one nothing, and if it was correct, then eternal salvation awaited. On the other hand, firmly remaining atheist might be correct, but what if the atheist was wrong, and then, at the end, the Big Man shook His Head and denied the afterlife... Silly, I know, but for lack of saying some Hebrew words this am, I figure I don't want to risk uneasiness to Hy's soul. So I'll head over to the Shul, hope the walls don't crumble with my visit, and remember Dad in the religion of his childhood. If it's a waste of time, then so be it. Meanwhile, his widow keeps on slouching along. The Ds gave her a huge thrill yesterday -- they visited with BOTH the spoiled Spaniel, and the strange looking dog of indeterminate breed. She lit up at the visit. On the religion front, she reported that she had become a "Buddha," we think meaning "Buddhist," in which she cares about no earthly matters. I guess that makes a LOT of sense for someone who, as Springsteen wrote, has had so much stripped away... But, she likes it at the Miami Jewish Home. I walked her to the lovely garden gazebo the other day (i LOVE the word gazebo), and remarked how the grounds were so much lovlier than Kings Point, her concrete jungle condo home of 33 years. "Oh I know Kings Point is a dump," she said. "When I looked out the window I saw a PARKING LOT!" But she went on how she loved her little condo, and felt so safe and secure there. All I know is, on the anniversary of Dad's death, Mom is still safe, well fed, and mostly living with dignity. I don't know there's much more a son can offer... 30 years gone by. Wow. Wifey and I were out last night with some friends. We went to a Mango Festival at Fairchild Garden. Our friend Lew, the hand surgeon, was Wifey's neighbor before I met her. Lew and I met in 1983. We marvelled at THAT passage of time as well. Dad was gone one year then, and I was starting law school. Eric and I were roomies -- he was starting medical school, It truly doesn't seem nearly 3 decades have passed. I hope the Ds get how fleeting time is. I think they do. They savor each day -- laughing, creating memories with friends. And I'm blessed and thrilled to be a part of it. I still wish my father was around to share me adult life...