Yesterday was Holocaust Memorial Day. I did not want to let it pass without some kind of acknowledgement from me.So in the early hours of yesterday morning I wrote a new poem. Here it is.
THIS CANDLE
This candle I light because we are without power. I nurse our new born son in the dark.
This candle I light because it is a birthday. Make a secret wish. Don’t tell a soul or else it won’t come true.
This candle I light just for fun. And because I like its fragrance.
This candle I light for romance. Candlelight is flattering in the dark.
This candle I light in a student bedsit and listen to the gravelly voice of Bob Dylan for the very first time.
This candle I light in a village church asking for prayers for someone gravely ill. I’ve never done this before.
This candle I light is a centre piece at our first born’s wedding feast.
This candle I light at the opera in Verona. A giant amphitheatre lit by a thousand candles glowing in the dark.
This candle I light to light all the other candles on the eight branched Chanukah menorah that belonged to my mother.
This candle I light to welcome in the Sabbath. We break bread, drink wine and count our blessings.
This candle I light in memory of a loved one on the anniversary of their passing.
This candle I light for the dead souls of Ukraine. May their memory be a blessing.
This candle I light is a symbol of love and peace and hope and grief and remembrance.
This candle I light as a Memorial for the 6 million men, women and children who were murdered in the Holocaust just for being Jewish. This candle I light tonight.
Something some of us have discovered as a result this lockdown is the fun of getting deliveries. Not just food deliveries but everything deliveries.
I am someone who has never enjoyed shopping in stores but I have really taken to buying stuff online.
We’ve all made jokes about people being dressed only from the waist up when they address us on Zoom – whether it’s on TV or among one’s own friendship circle. After all, aside from something respectable to cover you from neck to chest, who needs clothes during lockdown?
At the moment one really only needs clothes for pottering around the house and the occasional Zoom appearance.
OH (other half) and I find ourselves getting dressed later every day and changing back into our nightclothes much earlier each evening. Sometimes it seems hardly worth getting dressed at all!
We have been buying what I can only term as ‘comfort clothes’ and what the websites describe as “loungewear”. For example, a new velour jogging suit for me (though I will be lounging in it in front of the TV rather than jogging) and a new pair of slippers for OH.
I have also invested in a pair of cheerful tartan pyjamas and a cosy fleecy top. OH saw the fleece and desired something similar. I’ve managed to track one down for him too. “Matchy matchy” as our four year old granddaughter would say.
One also needs outdoor clothes for all those walks we are legally entitled to enjoy. I treated myself to a Cossack type fur hat. It looks incredibly decadent and stylish even though it is fake fur.
These all arrive with a knock on the door and a quick scurry away by whomsoever is making the delivery. No more do we put parcels in quarantine. We open them up excitedly, throw away the wrappings and then – of course – wash our hands.
Even though we know what’s going to be in the parcel we greet each one as if it is a long awaited gift.
I am reminded of a wonderful children’s story our three children all enjoyed in the past. “Benjamin’s 365 Birthdays”, written by Judi Barrett and illustrated by Ron Barrett.
Benjamin Bear loved opening birthday presents and was very sad once he had opened all of them. So he wrapped them up again and every day gave himself a new present. When he ran out of presents he found other things to wrap and unwrap, eventually wrapping up his whole house – roof and all.
That’s how OH and I feel when we hear that knock on the door and find a parcel awaiting us on the front step. Never mind that we know exactly what’s in it – there is still that stirring of excitement one felt as a child opening a present!
Unlike lockdown, it is the gift that keeps on giving.
Apologies for not having got round to posting today. I would like to be able to say it’s because I’ve been suffering from a hangover from birthday party celebrations. But, alas, no such luck!
I’ve been commissioned to do a painting. My four year old granddaughter has asked for a painting of a unicorn with a rainbow – so you can see I’ve had far more important things to do today than to write this blog.
To compensate, here’s the poem I should have posted yesterday. Those of you who are familiar with my blog (180 followers and 8,330 views since the blog’s inception a few years ago – apologies to Helen for the brackets and the dash!) will have seen this poem before.
In yesterday’s post there was a letter. For one happy moment I thought it was a birthday card. A real one. Made of paper and card. Not one of those online ones or messages on Face Book.
In actual fact it was our letter from Boris – the government health warning we were all expecting. It felt even more sobering today knowing that poor Boris is in hospital possibly fighting for his life.
This letter from 10 Downing Street does not tell us anything we didn’t already know. I think the government could have better spent the five and a half million pounds (!!!) it is said to have cost on more protective equipment for NHS staff and carers. The letter also misses a trick. A pretty obvious one. Why wasn’t it written in a number of languages? After all, until recently, when we went to our GP practice (before it closed its doors) if you signed in you were given the choice of what language you wanted the information to be in. We’re now living in a multi-ethnic, multi-cultural society. Yet the letter from number 10, is a real missed opportunity. Because surely it is all those people who don’t watch the BBC, who don’t listen to radio 4 or read the British press and who CAN’T SPEAK OR UNDERSTAND ENGLISH (hello Nigel Farage!) who need to know and understand what is happening?
It’s fortunate too that the letter was laser printed with Boris’s signature. Because had he truly signed it (am sure many people will think he really did) he might have been passing on the virus to every single household in the country!
Today, when you wash your hands and sing Happy Birthday, can you think of me whose birthday it really is today? On top of everything else, this evening will also be the start of Passover when Jewish families normally sit down together for the Seder – the traditional Passover service and meal. At Passover we are meant to eat matza instead of bread. So no birthday sandwiches for me. And cakes and biscuits made with potato flour, almonds and matza meal. So no birthday cake for me. Was always thus. Even when I was a small child. So, not only being Jewish did I miss out on Christmas presents and Easter eggs at Easter, I also missed out on birthday parties with birthday cake and candles because my birthday invariably fell at Passover. So, please remember me when you sing Happy Birthday today – and I promise to remember you when it’s your birthday.
Tonight our Passover Seder will be almost just as usual except it will be on Zoom, hosted by our marvellous daughter Hannah and our son-in-law Mark. We will get to see our grandchildren and other family members. Traditionally at Passover we ask, “Why is this night different from all other nights?” Answers on a postcard please. Or, by all means, comment below.
Yesterday I said I would be recommending some web sites and blogs I’ve discovered that you might enjoy.
First of all, do check out Tessa Fineman, Piano Lady on YouTube for your daily dose of laughter. Tessa puts her own lyrics to well known songs – and they’re all about coping with life today. She is always cheerful and her music will make you smile: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OewyS_igWjc
This one is the Camden virtual choir (all in self-isolation) singing True Colours.
Only this week we learned about the incredible child prodigy – Alma Deutscher from Bastingstoke England. Here’s an early interview with her.
You can follow her amazing performances on piano and violin on YouTube.
Here’s Rufus Wainwright with a crowd of 1500 people singing Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah.
I’ve also found this video of Boris Johnson on YouTube showing us all how to wash our hands. If that was how Boris washed his hands then I’m not surprised that he sadly became so ill. I washed my hands more thoroughly than that before we had ever heard of Corona Virus!
Wash your hands! Stay well. Stay home. Stay safe. See you tomorrow with an another instalment from Andrea’s exciting life.
© Andrea Neidle, My Life in Poems
My Life in Poems 