Dad (Paul F. Vang) wrote this remembrance of a darned sweet black lab, whom I named (see below) and will always remember as the best lap-lab ever. There was nothing quite like relaxing in a recliner with Flicka stretched full-length on your lap. We miss you, Flicka.
This is for Kimba. It might seem strange to have a kaddish for a dog, but she really was a part of the family. For more than 15 years, she was my companion. I lived with her longer than anyone except my mother and Kimba saw me through the heartache of three relationships as well…
On the eve of Mira’s dog Ziggy’s yahrtzeit, a “Kaddish” that is about as slow as I can do it, with Mira’s reading from last night edited into chunks that fit into the interstices of Kogan’s phrases.
Today’s Kaddish is for trout-fishing and in particular soft-hackle wet-fly flyfishing eminence Syl Nemes, and it’s a partial response to @Kaia Fahrenholz’s question about not feeling sad about death.
ou just never know whence the lessons of the daily mourning ritual will come. On this day of finally returning home to “kaddish in two-part harmony” as usual, Kjersti reminded us both that there are more important things than bereavement, prayers, and music.