Thich Nhat Hanh Jewish Roots The Better Way to Live Alone in the ...

jewish ROOTSDreaming withMy DadGrowing closer to those we love whohave already passed awayBy Sister Hanh NghiemHHow many of us have suffering from our past, especially whenit comes to relationships and how we live our life? Many peopleask how we can fix mistakes or heal deep wounds we carry withus in our daily life. The Buddha teaches us that impermanenceis life. We like impermanence when it benefits us and gives uswhat we want, but when it takes us away from our loved ones orcauses us to suffer, we don’t know how to accept it. We want to bewith our loved ones forever. We want to make our life meaningfuland precious.I was raised Jewish and went to synagogue for all the HighHolidays; we celebrated Hanukkah and Passover at home with thefamily. Every once in a while we went to minyan (prayer service)on Friday night, but still I felt a sense of emptiness and a lack ofspirituality and guidance. I did enjoy the Jewish traditions andhow the Jewish observances were so family oriented. When it wastime for the family to gather for holidays, it wasn’t about gifts; wecame together to remember our ancestors and to let go of regulardaily routine, to reflect on our lives.A Heart-Breaking LossActually it was my dad, Barry Allen Brodey, who had theJewish roots. My dad passed away ten years ago, when I wassixteen years old. Some teenagers shot him in order to get intoa gang. I remember the day my mom had to break the news tous. She wanted to do it as skillfully as possible and took us toa beautiful wooded area near our house, where we sat on a logsurrounded by trees in the early summer sunshine. The news wasso shocking that I didn’t even cry. I didn’t know how or what tofeel. I thought you only heard this news on the TV. I just turnedinto a frozen block of ice, filled with disbelief and despair. A partof me wanted to believe that he just went on a vacation. But hewasn’t on a vacation, and he would never come home. I never gotto say good-bye or I love you one last time. He had to die aloneand far away from home.My father was like the summer sun, making everythingaround him vibrant and alive. There was no way any personcould have a dull moment with him. He was the life of the party.He not only called me his little princess but also treated me likea princess. My dad was always more than happy to take me outwith him, but like most kids I took it all for granted. He gave meall I needed to be happy—life and his love. But while he was stillalive, I focused so much on wanting to understand his suffering, thepart of him that was closed to the world and simply untouchable.My father was like the summersun, making everything aroundhim vibrant and alive.I was stuck on a weed rather than enjoying his garden. I didn’tfeel it was my place to pry into his life and open up wounds, butit made me feel hopeless because I didn’t know how to connectwith him. I couldn’t help him for fear that the family would denywhat I saw, and I felt like a fool for saying anything. If my daddid share his sadness with me, I was afraid of having to truly faceit and deal with it.Looking back now, I know what I was doing at the momentwas just perfect. I was there with him and in my heart I was happyto have him as my dad.12 Summer 2006