An unfamiliar world

A dream?

I awoke in a daze my friend, still partially submerged in the subconscious realm, thinking that the nightmare was true, until full consciousness kicked in. Thank God, it was just a dream! Can you imagine?

Everyone was walking around wearing masks and shields. The Sears store became a mass vaccination center! Had to sit there 15 minutes after the shot, with many others, in case the vaccine made any of us stop breathing. There was no choice in the matter, as this contagion, called Covid-19, was killing millions all over the planet. So, you either took your chances with a hastily created vaccine, or lived in fear of catching the Covid and dying an ugly death, and you would eventually. Yeah, not a choice really, unless you had a death wish.

And this vaccine was no one shot deal. You had to go back for a second one, to get more protection, maybe a third one later on, and so on. This invisible Covid was like a demon, it kept changing and mutating, finding new ways to sneak up on us, get at us. Glad it was only a dream!

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Breakdown #1

The first confrontation with my mortality was at age 27, after the sudden death of my uncle. For the first time, I felt the universe to be a very cold and impersonal place. My faith was badly shaken, and I felt very alone and vulnerable. I experienced a breakdown as a result, one that lasted for several weeks, until the pain finally exhausted itself.

Eventually, I recovered a sense of spirituality in my life, as the idea of an impersonal universe was both incomprehensible and intolerable to me.

Recycled memories

Did I remember to take my medication last night? I remembered, I think, but is this a memory of having remembered other times – a composite image of taking my pills twice a day, 365 days a year? Or do I remember the actual event of consuming my medication last night?

I search my mind, vividly imagining the two white pills, one being small and round, the other shaped like a caplet of Tylenol. I visualize my hands removing the bottle caps, taking out each pill and laying them on the couch beside my left thigh – a repetitive ritual initiated by me twice a day, once in the morning and once at night, rarely with any variation. I pick up and place the round tablet on the back of my tongue, and then the caplet, washing them back with some cold water, to descend my throat and do their thing, which is to lower blood pressure, slow heart rate, and eliminate palpitations.

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No closure

There were ghosts from my past with whom I had no closure, including childhood bullies, former friends, deceased family members, ex-partners, lost loves, and one-time lovers. I once needed something from them to obtain closure, such as an apology, a thank you, a word of encouragement, a prayer, a smile or hug, or even pity sex as a final gesture of compassion. This did not happen though. They exited my life abruptly, without any effort to right what they had wronged. Explanations and solace were not offered, cries were left unattended, harsh words were not taken back, dignity was not restored, and threats were kept in place.

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Jewish strangers

Having been born in 1960s and raised in a mostly secular environment, I was far removed from the old world Judaism of my grandparents and great grandparents, who immigrated here from the Ukraine. My maternal grandfather and a few distant relatives practiced the traditions with an Orthodox fervor, complete with readings from the Torah and the fulfillment of the prescribed rituals. They understood both the mundane and sacred in what they were reading and practicing, including the Talmudic applications of it. Yet, for me, it was like observing somebody else’s religion or culture. It felt very foreign to me, and to this day it still feels that way to some degree.

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