sarah in nyc

When I was little, tucked in among the shelves of books of biblical commentary, theology Biblical archaeology and other books of use to a congregational rabbi in my father's knotty pine basement office was a collection of photo albums. I spent hours sitting in my father's Naugahyde reclining chair looking at the lives my parents lived before I was born. After my parents died, I inherited those beloved albums. There were rifts in the family so there were many faces in that album that existed for me only as people in theory rather than living and breathing human beings. As decades of hurt and anger have flowed under many bridges various segments of the family have re-connected. Perhaps twenty years ago my sister saw a death notice for one of my father's cousins in the New York Times. My parents happened to be in town so my father reconnected with his cousin Carole-Lee. My cousin has a life filled with children and grandchildren, art making  and all of the many obligations...