My grandfather finally speaks.
Remember we have services tomorrow.
Rabbi Rosenthal expects us.
My father looks down.
Pop, I have to work, and you know how I feel.
None of this, he waves his arm at the box, and the jars,
is for me anymore.
My grandfather looks at him, and then at me.
Hasn’t it been long enough?
You don’t just stop your life.
She would want you to go.
I think he’s talking about my mom,
or maybe my grandmother.
I need the money, Pop.
Besides, all the games are on.
Oy gevalt! my grandfather groans,
and turns away.