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OOM: The way that she died
Oct. 30th, 2006 04:21 pmSleeping beside Sara is amazingly comforting. Perhaps that's why it takes him a few moments to realize that he's not really there. Or at least, a part of him isn't there.
Sitting up, he looks around, and realizes he's in his bedroom. Not the Loft, not even the bar, but his room back in Scarsdale, with all of its film posters and quiet chaos. Across the room, tidying the dresser is an elderdly lady in a flowered skirt and headscarf. She turns around, and smiles at Mark, speaking, as she always did, in Yiddish. "I was wondering when you would finally wake up, my Moishe."
"Grandma? What're you..." He blinks at the use of his Jewish name,
"I've always been there when you needed me, haven't I?" She smiled at him, shuffling over and sitting beside him in the bed. "I hear you've found yourself a girl. A shiksa."
"Er, yeah." Mark turns a bit red, looking beside him, and realizing that Sara's sleeping there. He takes her hand gently, making sure he doesn't wake her. "She's everything to me."
"I can tell. It's in your eyes, Moishe. How is your father taking it?"
"I haven't told them yet. I... don't know how." Mark sighs, shaking his head a bit.
"Just tell them. If they can't see you're probably the happiest you've ever been, they have more problems than even I can fix."
"Grandma, how did Mom end up the way she is when you're so reasonable?" Mark laughs a bit, shaking his head.
His laugh is cut off by a sharp look from his grandmother. "There's a lot behind my reasonableness, Moishe, don't you ever forget that. I've been through more than even you can know. Esther tries, bless her heart, but she can't see outside of the little world she's created for herself. You and I both know there's more than that. You've known that since you were just a wee thing."
Mark sighs. "I miss you, Grandma. I wish you could be there..."
"Oh, I'll be there, alright. I wouldn't miss it for anything." She smiles at him. "I'm proud of you, my boy. I always knew you'd make it, but you'd have to take your own way to get there."
Mark blinks for a moment, then, seemingly out of the blue, changes the subject. "I met him, you know. Schindler. He was fascinating. Said I have your eyes."
Her eyes sparkle for a moment, paled by memory. "That's something he would say. I got him thrown in jail, after all. He was the most amazing man..."
"I know, Grandma. He was probably the most amazing man I've ever spoken to." Mark smiles thoughtfully. "He knew what was right." And really, that's about the biggest compliment Mark can give.
"He did, Moishe, he really did." She pauses and stands. "Take care of your girl. I want to see great-grandchildren one of these days, and you know I'll be stubborn until I get them."
"Oh, I know. You and Angel..."
"Your Angel is amazing. Too bad, really. That would have been lovely as well...." Before she could say any more, Mark woke up, not in Scarsdale, but in his own bed, beside Sara, whose hand he was still holding. The grin on his face probably isn't going to go away for a while.
Sitting up, he looks around, and realizes he's in his bedroom. Not the Loft, not even the bar, but his room back in Scarsdale, with all of its film posters and quiet chaos. Across the room, tidying the dresser is an elderdly lady in a flowered skirt and headscarf. She turns around, and smiles at Mark, speaking, as she always did, in Yiddish. "I was wondering when you would finally wake up, my Moishe."
"Grandma? What're you..." He blinks at the use of his Jewish name,
"I've always been there when you needed me, haven't I?" She smiled at him, shuffling over and sitting beside him in the bed. "I hear you've found yourself a girl. A shiksa."
"Er, yeah." Mark turns a bit red, looking beside him, and realizing that Sara's sleeping there. He takes her hand gently, making sure he doesn't wake her. "She's everything to me."
"I can tell. It's in your eyes, Moishe. How is your father taking it?"
"I haven't told them yet. I... don't know how." Mark sighs, shaking his head a bit.
"Just tell them. If they can't see you're probably the happiest you've ever been, they have more problems than even I can fix."
"Grandma, how did Mom end up the way she is when you're so reasonable?" Mark laughs a bit, shaking his head.
His laugh is cut off by a sharp look from his grandmother. "There's a lot behind my reasonableness, Moishe, don't you ever forget that. I've been through more than even you can know. Esther tries, bless her heart, but she can't see outside of the little world she's created for herself. You and I both know there's more than that. You've known that since you were just a wee thing."
Mark sighs. "I miss you, Grandma. I wish you could be there..."
"Oh, I'll be there, alright. I wouldn't miss it for anything." She smiles at him. "I'm proud of you, my boy. I always knew you'd make it, but you'd have to take your own way to get there."
Mark blinks for a moment, then, seemingly out of the blue, changes the subject. "I met him, you know. Schindler. He was fascinating. Said I have your eyes."
Her eyes sparkle for a moment, paled by memory. "That's something he would say. I got him thrown in jail, after all. He was the most amazing man..."
"I know, Grandma. He was probably the most amazing man I've ever spoken to." Mark smiles thoughtfully. "He knew what was right." And really, that's about the biggest compliment Mark can give.
"He did, Moishe, he really did." She pauses and stands. "Take care of your girl. I want to see great-grandchildren one of these days, and you know I'll be stubborn until I get them."
"Oh, I know. You and Angel..."
"Your Angel is amazing. Too bad, really. That would have been lovely as well...." Before she could say any more, Mark woke up, not in Scarsdale, but in his own bed, beside Sara, whose hand he was still holding. The grin on his face probably isn't going to go away for a while.
