Each Yom Tov, I’d hear my father’s voice, rising above the others

I

’m the daughter of a Kohein, and then I married a Kohein. All my life, I’ve stood in shul for Bircas Kohanim and listened as my family members blessed me and the entire congregation.

But it’s different now. Now that my father is no longer alive.

My earliest memories of Bircas Kohanim involve me and my sisters, all of us standing in a row. We were kids, and we were giggling because we could hear our father. It wasn’t just the sound of his voice that made us laugh. It was the specific moment when the Kohanim said the final word of the brachah — be’ahavah, with love  — and my father’s voice would rise above all the others. His “be’ahavah” was loud, full of feeling. As a child, I was embarrassed by it, by anything that made my father stand out. As an adult, I wish I’d thought to ask him why his voice rose then.