Adam ~ "Nathaniel"

Nathaniel
My family and I burst through the doors of the synagogue, and walked down the aisle to a row of empty seats. The synagogue's huge bulk swallowed me into a world of stained glass windows and wooden pews. Outside, the tall oak trees stood defiantly in the breeze and whispered heavy heartedly among themselves. Tears graced the eyes of many mourners and red eyes hinted at ones already shed. I had already let my grief flow through my tears. I wondered how such a beautiful place came of such sorrow.
My thoughts were interrupted by the rabbi as the service began, "A moment of silence to remember the recently deceased Nathaniel Silberberg..." I couldn't stop the flow of salty tears seeping into my eyes this time. I quietly wept for the great-grandfather I had barely known.
The services ended and I realized I had been absorbed in my own thoughts. Everyone filed down the rows to glance at Nathaniel's physical form, though his laughter and merry spirit had died on his lips. I gazed into his electric blue eyes, as clear in death as in life.
Within minutes, my family and I climbed into a rented Land Rover. As my father drove away, I stared back towards were my beloved father of my grandfather now lay. Still staring in that direction, I fell into the world of memories, a realm of dreams.
As I toddled by our apartment's sitting room , Nathaniel's voice echoed wheezily throughout the halls. "Adam, how was school today?" and as I came into view, “ Where did you get that haircut?”
When I appeared over the threshold he beckoned me fondly with a wave like that of a New Yorker hailing their favorite taxicab driver. “Come sit by me, and tell me about your day.”
I alighted upon the burgundy colored, velvet couch and spoke in the unsure voice of a two year old, “Nothin’ happened at school today, an’ I got my haircut at the butcher’s.” Nat roared with laughter at the reply he had taught me, a circus trainer with their star seal. I snuggled up beside him...
The scene changed, nobody was beside me. I walked down a cobble paved street, with the limp and cane of an old man. I turned left into the alley as it started to rain. The steel lamp’s shivering light slightly warmed the corpse of my body. I turned a right toward a door with a seemingly out of place bronze door knocker and address plate. Death101. Instinct made me place my hand on the door knocker. I knocked. A face shrouded in the darkness of a hood opened the door. His white knuckles and bony fingers clutching a t the door frame. Primal thoughts forced me to stagger over the doorstep and into the dark sitting room. I held my bony frame by the meager heat of the weak fire. A blur of silver flashed towards me, caressing me...
My eyelids fluttered open. I was inside the car, entering Manhattan, home of the past four generations of my family. Except us. I felt a strange calm settling over me, like a mist. Slowly and deliberately I spoke, “I’ve realized that death is inevitable, and while loved ones fade, their memory lives on.” My father looked back, and smiled.