Shahar hasn't come home for a long time?

 

 

Prologue

 

First I have to tell my readers that this book is different from my other ones and it has no chronological order. My story touches the future and slides into the present and into the past. I have taken poetic license to jump between times/places/people. Each year, when summer arrives, my shadow and I can be found in one of the exotic parts of the globe. This year in a charming lodge in the midst of the rainforests 170 km north-east of Manaus, the capital of the Amazon.

The hour is early morning, a slight coldness touching all, with me at the lodge two 30-year-old Canadians, one Jewish - Steve and the other Rob, a grandson to a Jewish grandmother and son of a Coptic Christian from Egypt. I awoke for some reason, there are times when each of us is half awake, half asleep and I remember dreaming of Shahar and his mother lying curled up like a fetus trying to protect the child of her womb (too late). Looking back again into my dream I saw she had changed her position and half sitting with her head on her fist she half-asked, half-said, Shahar hasn't come home for a long time?

Here my dream came to an end and reality crushed down on me, I found myself completely awake, listening to the noises of the jungle awakening. Suddenly, without being able to give any explanation, an internal sobbing started to grow until it burst out in tears which fell like a waterfall from my eyes. I do not usually cry but it was totally uncontrollable.

I decided that my spouse's words/question "Shahar hasn't come home for a long time?" would be the name of this book of travel to Brazil 2003.

 

Epilogue

 

Shahar hasn't come home for a long time, but Shahar is at home, outside and everywhere. His name is often used by my grandchildren who call his room "Shahar's room".

Here in the middle of the Amazon forest, at the side of a mineral lake, friendly monkeys are jumping around, some of them upholding Darwin's theory that man's ancestors were monkeys, as they thrust their heads towards my breast hoping to find food or milk and it matters not whether you are man or woman.

Colored parrots leap among the branches and descend without fear to sit on the shoulders of any passersby.

Joining the "happening" comes a beautiful bird with black feathers and a large yellow beak, called a tucan, always ready to catch grapes or olives thrown from a distance. One cannot stay indifferent to these animals that have so many human characteristics.

Shahar of mine, sees all, hears all, tastes all, feels all, but is unable to say all.

Shahar of mine hasn't come home for a long time and most likely we, living at home, will join him, some sooner, some later.

I allow myself a few personal words – my children, you are the essence of my being, I raised you, always being there for you, always being a part and even today, if you need me, I am here! Please know – if one of us departs we have to accept it as something that cannot be changed, a lot of pain and hurt are present, but the emptiness cannot be reversed.