Most mourners share a common experience: The realization of how much our loved ones miss by not being there. On the 25th anniversary of my brother’s death, I write what he missed. I cannot, of course, list everything. This is just a taste. Continue reading
Ignorant of my faith, I could not turn to Judaism when my brother died 25 years ago. Ritual was not a part of my upbringing, and it lingered in the shadows through my 20s and most of my 30s. Only in the last decade have I started to follow the path that Judaism sets for mourners. Jewish ritual now smooths salve on the long-ago wound. Continue reading
Next week, on March 1st, a date that will always unnerve me, I mark the 25th anniversary of my brother’s death. This is the first in a series of three posts I will write as March 1 approaches. Today: So many mourners do not understand the power of a death’s anniversary – until it hits them. Continue reading
Saying the mourner’s Kaddish during my brother’s yahrzeit, which I will do tonight at temple, usually tears me up. It is not so much the words that stir me; rather, it is the ritual. The prayer asks us to praise God, honor him, extol him, glorify him, and finally to wish that God will bring peace on us and all of Israel. There are no direct words of comfort, no pearls of wisdom designed to help us heal from loss.
Shalom. Chances are, you came to this blog because you too are trying to figure out how faith can fit into your life.
Born Jewish, I was raised in a non-religious household. My faith meant little to me until strangers threw my religion in my face when my family moved from western New York State to rural Ohio. At the time, I was 9, and was one of only three Jews in the school system; the other two were my older brothers. Peers often interrogated me when they found out I … Continue reading
Subscribe to the blog feed to receive updates
