I was welcomed into a home of four.
Together we made five.
Five chairs at the dinner table.
Five seats in the 60’s station wagon, no seat belts.
Five fingers on each hand, five toes on each foot.
And then there was four chairs. Always an empty chair.
And then we were three chairs, always two empty.
And now we are two.
Fellow travelers have joined us along the way.
We are still two. For now.
A yearning for five steams up the window pane.
Hamsas adorn the house.
Many shapes, colors, sizes.
Hamsas adorn the house.
just saying: I adore your writing on 5 and hamas.
Ouch. This one is hard. My family was five. It was all I knew for 50 years. Then my mom died and we were four. None of us know what to do. We flail around and run into each other like a hand with no thumb. And one day we will be three. And then none. What is it about the number five?
Your words always touch my hearts. With much, much gratitude for you, Chaya.