saying Kadish

I have never attended the saying of Kadish, the Jewish funeral ritual. Our friend Larry Peterman, a much beloved professor of political science at UCD, died last week. Tuesday was his service, simple, beautiful and moving. The Rabbi, a tall, elegant man with deep, soulful eyes, chanted the the opening words of the mourning prayer. The congregation sang along softly. Prayers were offered. The 23rd Psalm was read. Colleagues spoke of Larry's scholarly achievements and told funny stories. His two children, who had buried their mother only last April, also spoke. And then it was over. Guests moved on to the family home for a reception where more stories were told, photos looked at, tears shed. Since I was raised in the Anglican church, I have no way of judging "high" or "low" temple. Therefore I don't know if this simple, quiet service was typical. But wherever it was on the worship scale, it was memorable.

It has been a busy week at our house. Much effort is being expended getting the place in shape for the visit of my sister and brother-in-law. They arrive tomorrow, driving up from San Diego to spend a week lolling by the pool, visiting friends, including one of Vic's classmates who lives in Novato. The last time they visited here they drove to Pt. Reyes and brought back a couple dozen oysters which we did on the b-b-q. I'm counting on the same treat this year.



One movie this week ~ "Diarios de Motocicleta". Tough for me to read the sub-titles but my Spanish is now almost good enough so I can actually watch the movie and understand what's going on. Thumbnail review: not long enough, or perhaps deep enough to convince me of Ché's conversion from an educated upper class doctor-to-be to a radical revolutionary. I'm not doubting that it happened but this movie doesn't show me. What I learned from this movie: my next travel destination is Valparaiso, Chile. Looks like a sensational city.