I’ve been working on Song of the Torah, a book of scripture selections with a bit of commentary. In the course of my studies I noticed that when one of the patriarchs dies, the Torah often says “and he was “gathered to his people.”
There’s a nice fellow in town here, whom I only know slightly. When I learned that his wife had just died, I wrote him a sympathy card and noted that his wife is now being joyfully “gathered to her people.”
I woke this morning from the sweetest dream. I was in the mountains with a few friends, helping them get settled before I was leaving to be with family when, lo - a sweet old car from the ’40s drove up and there was my dad driving and smiling at me warmly. Then he pointed across the mountains, and there in the distance was Mom waving hi.
I was talking by phone with my son now in Baghdad. I asked if he felt safe there. He said, yes, pretty safe, but if anything were to happen, we should know that he loves us.
Same here, I said. I’m a bit older than you and I’ll probably return home before you. Just know I love you and we’ll be “gathered to our people.”
