[powerpress]
When Mira writes something like a kiddish for our kaddish — and then al-fatihah — and I’m completely exhausted, barely able to string words together, I’m grateful that I get to respond with music.
I read her post well after midnight, after the last of our dinner guests had either left or retired to the guest room. A good friend of ours is moving, so we’d had the whole gang over for a potluck going-away party, and in true George fashion it didn’t break up until there’d been Scrabble and Quiddler. So there I am at 1:30am. I’ve just read Mira’s Kiddush, I’m moved beyond words, I’m exhausted, and now I have to try to remember how to play horn.
I did it the only way I possibly could: I turned up her track in my headphones, started playing, and hung on for dear life. It’s pretty obvious in the recording how tired I am, but Mira’s voice gives it shape.
A kiddush for our kaddish. A kiddush for the best collaborator a kaddish-player could possibly have.
