Something about this place instills superstition. My aunt holds forth in the power of magnetism to cure ailments. Her daughter won’t pass or take a knife unless it’s first placed on a table, facing away from the receipient. My cousin Leo arrived with a string around his wrist to ward off the Evil Eye. And I’ve become a great believer in signs and divinations.
The rains that had flooded the areas around us had ceased, but the sky remained overcast all morning. We were to be at the cemetary again for the end of Shiva prayers. My aunt worried it would start pouring again. “Just wait,” I said. We drove out in darkened heavens but just as we arrived, the clouds cleared away and the sun came down. Just as it did before.
I said the Kaddish for the second time, although by orthodoxy, it was to be said every day — for a whole year.
