On This Yom Kippur Rainy Night

This afternoon at 5ish it started raining. It rarely rains in Los Angeles, especially this time of year. Me and The Kid always went to the park in the rain. The first rain was never missed. No matter what time it started raining, even if it was 3AM, we were at the patch playing catch.



I've always loved the rain and so did The Kid. Watching him run and shake himself off, the way he smelled of wet dog when he got back into the car. After a few tosses, he would look up at the sky with his mouth stretched open catching each and every drop of rain. It was just PERFECT. The joy it brought me made my heart push through my chest. They were uninterrupted, complete moments. I cherished each one of them.



When Guthy mentioned how much she loved the Avinu Malkeinu prayer, it reminded me of why I love this prayer, "Avinu malkeinu (Our Father, our King) is a penitential prayer that originated on fast days as a plea for rain." Etc. Etc. Etc. Beautiful. Beautiful. Beautiful. Read. You'll love.



On the eve of Yom Kippur for the rain to fall, to mourn the loves we've lost, especially The Kid, it's so special. It feels like a sign.



Tonight, I said the Kaddish, a prayer for the dead and I lit a Rokeach for my kid. Tomorrow I will go to Shul to share my mourning with my peeps. We will think about this past year, about how we fit into the landscape of life and about our futures. We will learn from our mistakes and we will love in Yiddish.



As soon as it started raining today, I was at the patch, walking his course. Pausing where he paused. Feeling the rain on my face. Crying. Aching. Missing him. And that's ok.



I wish you all a beautiful, healthy, happy and peaceful Yom Kippur.



PS: It's still raining...