Did you ever see the trail of a (jet) plane left in the sky? Or ripples of water flowing out from one concentric 'plunk' of something 'gone' in the middle? That is how life is. People who have passed leave these trails behind. The memories we hold, the recollection of the tendencies we recall (that our deceased loved ones had) and the profound and lasting influences these people had on our lives are at play in our current lives. Our Grandmother's hand on our shoulder. The spot where our Grandfather sat on the couch. Memories of sewing around a dinner table at our Grandmother's house with her nearby. Our memories---the delightful thing about them is we can conjure them up at virtually any time in our own mind. And they might still influence our behavior and certainly our emotions today. Our loved ones or even people we simply met who left an albeit brief but indelible mark influence us from beyond the grave. They are, in a sense, ghosts at our table. They remind us of where we came from and who we are. This is a comfort to those left living.
[My commentary on the 'Ghosts at Shulem's Table;' final scene from "Shtisel" (Netflix, 2018.)]
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