Don't Sit Under the Apple Tree With Anyone Else But Me...

"Life will break you. Nobody can protect you from that, and living alone won’t either, for solitude will also break you with its yearning. You have to love. You have to feel. It is the reason you are here on earth. You are here to risk your heart. You are here to be swallowed up. And when it happens that you are broken, or betrayed, or left, or hurt, or death brushes near, let yourself sit by an apple tree and listen to the apples falling all around you in heaps, wasting their sweetness. Tell yourself you tasted as many as you could."

—Louise Erdrich

I came across this excerpt a few days ago and it moved me. It created more than just a temporary stirring from within. It brought about the type of feeling that simmers even after the passing of time like the sweetness of that first fresh picked fall apple upon your tongue. 

While we do not live in a world of revealed miracles today as our ancestors once did, we do live in a world in which G-d works continuous wonders time and time again. Sometimes we are bold enough to let ourselves see it and we live with intention and abundance. Other times we turn away; we live timidly, halfheartedly, guardedly. We walk with the expectation that those with whom we cross paths are meant to join this path with us for all time. We face inevitable disappointment. Sometimes, that is not the case. Sometimes our paths cross and intersect. Sometimes, we hit an impasse, and our journeys continue in opposite directions. Other times still, our journeys parallel in a unique fashion that can at once look both self reflective and completely foreign.

In the past weeks, I cannot help but feel the awe and amazement of how and when my path has intertwined with others'. Some of these fellow travelers are quite familiar; we are old companions and despite the tests of time and geography, to each other we are always known and understood. Some of these fellow travelers are more recent inductions to my journey. Already we have left footprints in the sand behind us and there is much trail ahead yet to traverse. Some of these travelers are altogether new and unknown and I am astounded at how quickly a familiar glimmer in the eye or inflection in the voice can leave us feeling like we're old friends. 

And this is what I've learned. This is what I know. We all have shdus. We have stories. We have sadness. We have triumphs and trials and childlike fears. And more often than I think we allow ourselves to realize, we all want very much the same thing: company, companionship. And within that, we also long for permanence. Since this is a factor over which we have no control, often we grasp and cling to the little things in life over which we convince (and often fool) ourselves that we have mastery. Sometimes, maybe often times, it would behoove us to loosen the reigns, to smile and to enjoy the ride. To at once taste as many apples as we can but also not cling to one that was bitter or the one that was the sweetest we had ever tasted.

This Friday corresponds to the date in the Jewish calendar of my late grandfather, Harry Blustein's yahrzeit (anniversary of the day of death). My grandfather passed away five years ago. Even though the old photos grow blurry and fade with the passing of time, my memory of my Poppa is as vivid as though I am still beside him here on these stairs in our family's old house. He was a man who was unafraid to live passionately, intentionally and abundantly. He loved intensely, completely, and without fear. These are characteristics I strive to emulate. I truly pray and believe he would be proud today to see his children, grandchildren and now a beautiful great-grandson named in his beloved honor. 

Not everyone is blessed and lucky enough to say that they have seen, witnessed, and experienced a love as sincere, full and complete as the one shared for over 60 years between my grandparents, both of blessed memory. This was a love that not only radiated between them but also emanated from them toward the many other blessed and lucky souls they touched along the way.

The following excerpt is from HaYom-Yom, an anthology of aphorisms and customs compiled by the Lubavitcher Rebbe from the talks and lectures given by The Previous Rebbe. These passages are arranged according to the days of the year and this is the one for the 14th of Shevat, corresponding to my grandfather's yarhzeit:

Our Holy forebears, the Rebbei'im through the generations, appealed to G-d and evoked Divine compassion toward their Chassidim, those bound to them. This was not all; they also had an Avoda (service/work) of bringing their Chassidim to mind, inwardly, pondering their affection and attachment to the Rebbe, reciprocating that affection and attachment. Bringing someone to mind has the effect of arousing that person's innermost powers. We see that when one looks deeply and intently at another he will around and return the glance, because the penetrating gaze awaken the core of the soul. Thought has the same effect.

Today, even though my grandfather's footsteps walk a path in the World to Come rather than in this physical realm alongside me, the thoughts and love my family and I have for him very much keep the power of his holy soul alive. May we all find comfort and companionship as much in the relationships we share in this moment as to those we share across the borders of linear time and space. And may my grandfather's neshama have an aliyah.