washwords

Today is Yom Kippur, the day of atonement for my faith, the closing of the 10 day period of the new year, of reflection for the year behind, of looking to the year ahead.

Truth be told, I love this time of year. I love the rituals of cleansing, purifying,  the haunting melodies,  the looking ahead and celebrating first so that filled up with love and hope and promise, you can more properly atone for sins, and reform into someone better, stronger, more authentic.

I especially love the poetry, the music of our services. I sing “Avinu Malkeinu” to myself throughout the year (no doubt especially annoying friends and neighbors this time of year) and unlike my favorite songs in English where it’s the lyrics I most connect to, focus on; in prayer, it’s the melody - the haunting beautiful notes that express better where my heart is dwelling then the actual words sometimes can.  “Our Father, Our King” the literal translation of that prayer’s title, isn’t what the song speaks to me.

Rather, it says loudly, softly, heartfully, tearfully, pleadingly, “I’m sorry.”

It says: I’ll do better. I’m working on it. I do have love in my heart of hearts, I do appreciate the riches I have.

It says: I am joyful, exhuberant, warmed by this community, even when they are strangers. I am home here with this familiar melody I seem to have always known, by the ability to sing fully, forcefully, till I’m dizzy and hoarse.

It says: Thank you. Thank you, God, if that’s what you believe in. Thank you friends and loved ones. Thank you strangers for forgiving me the sins and offenses I don’t even know I’m committing. Thank you love for finding me, thank you world for recognizing the talents and strengths I have.

And it says this: There’s going to be hurt, there’s going to be mistakes and pains and some of them are going to be your fault. And

After a day that went like this:

me: — $700 billion bailout bill fails in House. Dow down by nearly 600 points
Pal: it failed!!!
so what is the next thing??

me: yeppers

Pal: holy *&^*&^*&^&
well i still don’ tunderstand it
i thought it was a bad thing
i don’t quite understand it!!

me: nor i

Pal: I mean, $700 billion?
Pal: they cold give a billion dollars to everyone in the country
andstill come out ahead

me: but selfishly, more bad news
me: this means we may have trouble refinancing

Pal: ohnoes
me: and getting me and [sweetie] in together, living in one place
Pal: NOOOOOOOES
me: awwwwhoooo
Pal: NOES NOESNOES

me: right!? awwwwhooo

me: agjkagljkfgljkfg
Pal: SLDKFJOIFHOAIHAOIH

I wound up with a day that ended like this: sweet, like apples and honey. Here is I wrote the very same pals regarding my evening:

a rare happy sweet moment in honor of rosh hashanah. I brought [my love] tonight and after a string of bringing boys who hate hate hate it or at least sit and sulk or pout and fold arms, (including yes, several Jewish exes) I am a little nervous, starting to “prep” him.

he tells me he’ll be fine and he is. he likes it. he pays attn. he says i have a beautiful singing voice (with bronchitis) he asks me questions. he thanks me for bringing him. and says he feels at home.

also, he says he is glad i brought up agljagljkdfgjkdjlkdgljkdfgjlkfdgdf housing frustrations and that we WILL do what it takes to make this work and that we WILL be together.

I believe him.

We have dinner and ride the Metro home. he has to go to Va., me DC tongiht, but we have this sweet train ride home laughing and talking and i feel a zillion times better than i did just a few hours ago - PEACEFUl, like your [engagement] toast said, ["Pal"] and he says “shana tova” as I’m standing up to get off the train - my stop is first- and kisses me when i get off the train. awww.

yes, i’ll be angry and bossy again sometime, we’ll both make mistakes and be not forgiving enough, but tonight, things are sweet and I thought i could share because I know you’ll know it’s not gloaty, it’s just… a moment of love. awww. wishing you both all the same peace. less agjlaljagljkadgjklagljk and more peace. zen.love.

I wish you, all six readers as Soupy Meg likes to say, the same. L’shana tova. Here’s to the sweetest of sweet new years. No matter what’s happening in the outside world.

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So yesterday, after work, I decided to just take the green line home to stop at Ben’s and pay my respects for their 50th anniversary Ben’s Chili Bowl Celebrates Fifty Years With Three Free Events This Week! « Capital Spice.

Granted, it was a beautiful summer night, I’m a bit emotional (even for me), in love, and generally happy and seeing the good in the world.

But the scene there made me teary. A happy teary. Because the scene there was just so nice. Really truly nice. The nice that’s not an insult.

[Photo on flickr by "Jim Darling"Ben's Chili Bowl 50th Anniversary on Flickr]

Whether it was the rocking music, “We’ve got the funk….” the diverse line streaming down the sunny U street, the cheery smiles, the infamous sign: “Who eats free at Ben’s? Bill Cosby. And NO ONE else,” I was moved. Moved to tears. The man in front of me said “I’ve been here since waaaay back in the day.” I told him I hadn’t been but I love the stories. I love that they survived doing what they do - the simplicity of half smokes and chili - and doing it well for 50 years.

I love that they made it, that they kept on keeping on through the painful days, the ugly days in our history and DC’s history. I love that they love what they do, and have stood for justice and freedom and equality without preaching, without anger or vitriol or indignation (even when they had a right to!).

I love the half smokes and that my friend took me there as a must-see when I first was single in the city, newly divorced, hurting and lost and new to everything again. And Ben’s was home, my new home. And now as I prepare to leave the city in a few months, it is comforting to me to know that things will remain the same. Here’s to you Ben’s - I hope to be there for your 100th!