Oded always used to tell a story about The Palm restaurant in New York. I drove past a sign for The Palms, a totally unrelated place, and it instantly conjured up an image of Oded telling stories and laughing deeply, wine glass in hand, eyes scrunched at the corners. Thinking of him laughing then made me think of his daughter, Michal, a sweet, modest social worker with a penchant for dirty jokes. She'd bring them home and gather the family for a telling of the latest. Which then made me think of Orna laughing, and of Tamar performing. Like the time that Tamar came to the dinner table in an extremely low cut, skin tight top. Her mother whispered that the shirt was inappropriate. Tamar stomped off and returned in a turtleneck, long pants, and a scarf wrapped around her head. Her mother laughed until tears rolled down her face. Orna laughs like that a lot.
It's funny how thinking about laughter can make me cry.
1 comment:
I'm amazed that such a short paragraph captures this family in such an accurate light. You are a perfect sketch artist. And probably Tamar's outfit is funnier to people somewhat familiar with typical Israeli weather..
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