My dad liked his gin on the rocks with a twist of lemon. He liked everything to be really cold, so he kept his gin glasses in the freezer, and froze the lemon twists, too. Today, November 21, 2o11, is the 13th anniversary of my dad’s death – his 13th yahrzeit. It’s the day Jews remember dead loved ones and pray to god to tell him that even though their loved one is no longer here on earth doing good work, they are still a good person, because we remember.
But, I forgot – temporarily. Yesterday I made fresh ice, and froze a couple of strips of lemon rind, thinking it was a good thing I was going to work, because I could come home, cold and tired and in the dark, and have a drink of gin and some cheese and crackers, just like my dad did. Somehow that plan slipped my mind entirely until I was grating a little zest off the lemon I’d taken the rind strips from, to add it to a salad of soba noodles. Those noodles were not at all my dad’s idea of dinner – he would’ve turned his nose up at it just as firmly as Mark did.
In fact, those noodles were pretty tasty, especially with the gin and improvised yahrzeit candle on the side. I raised my glass to absent friends – love you Daddy.
