Tonight at services the rabbi said “Pauline Goldberg” on the Kaddish list. I was surprised how much it affected me to hear her name in a place she had never been, spoken by someone who never met her.

I think about her all the time. Which is normal, seeing how when she was alive I thought about her often as well.

After services I met up with a new friend, Sara, and saw a play at the AllWays Lounge. The play is called “A Crude Trilogy,” 3 one-acts by Cripple Creek Artistic Director Andrew Vaught, and attempts to “confront desperate measures during desperate times.” It was based on the recent BP Oil Spill and it’s affect on the Louisiana coast and it’s inhabitants. Vaught used colloquialisms and physical humor, a few absurd plot points which were held together by the real emotions betrayed on stage. It was very well done.

When Sara and I stepped out of the Lounge we could see across the street a young woman juggling fire to the crowd of passing cars.

On the drive back I passed a film crew filming on Carrollton Avenue, a street away from mine.

I keep thinking about Grandma playing Canasta in heaven. Grandpa’s close at hand.


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