A few weeks ago I recited the Friday night Jewish prayer of Kiddush, sanctifying the Sabbath. My husband usually says it, but I was going to bed extra early so I said it for myself (I pass out early on weekends too ever since I became a mom and have a perpetual 6 am wake up!)
As I began to recite the Kiddush prayer I pictured my father saying it when I was a kid. I heard his voice and intonation. I used that image as a way for me to remember the words (I had a booklet with the words, but saying it with my eyes closed was much more in line with my state of exhaustion).
I felt a lot of nostalgia. My father had recited this Kiddush prayer for my family every Friday night my entire childhood.
I was grateful for this moment in time where I could feel my father’s presence so strongly.