The Bat Mitzvah

The Bat Mitzvah 
sits next to me
fingering her new gold bracelet
It was her grandmothers, who she’s missing
more than usual, I’d imagine
I watch her connecting to a lost loved one
through a tangible item, left behind for her,
and I find myself missing my grandfather
not yet gone a year
I don’t have a gold chain to finger
but I turn inward for a moment
and find his fingerprints all over my heart
I can taste his butter-tarts and feel the last hug I gave him
I can see his pride shining in his eyes
My throat tightens
but the Bat Mitzvah and I keep singing
and though she doesn’t know it
for a moment we are no longer
rabbi and student
but just two bereaved granddaughters
missing the people we loved

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