Thank you everyone for the birthday wishes; its always nice to celebrate another year of still being around. Wednesday was an unusual birthday, though. First it was my mothers Yahrzeit, the anniversary of her death according to the Jewish Calendar: Hoshanah Rabbah, the last day of Sukkot, and the day on which tradition tells us that the judgment written in the Book of Life on Rosh Hashanah and sealed on Yom Kippur is finalized. At the time of her death 20 years ago I was slightly embittered by this. Although she had lived 5 months after her diagnosis of terminal cancer and was able to fulfill her wish to escort my sister to the chuppah to see her married to a wonderful man, I had trouble accepting that as we listened to the Shofar on Rosh Hashanah and recited uchtov lchaim tovim kol bnei vreitechah it had been written that she would not survive into the new year. Wednesday I had another sad confrontation with that concept as I attended the funeral of a dear cousin who in sweetness, gentleness, and love of family, was very like my mother; they even shared the same Hebrew name – Tovah, which means good or goodness. And they were both teachers who loved their students and were loved in return. My cousin Gail lost her husband just 6 weeks ago after 45 years of loving and devoted companionship. Her death was sudden and unexpected and it was jarring to lose them both in such a short time. But I found myself again embittered by the timing of it. It is difficult to believe that judgment is as literal as the recitation of the Unetaneh Tokef - that G-d makes a decision about who will live and who will die and actively decides to snatch good and righteous people from their loved ones. It is especially difficult at this season of joy and celebration of new beginnings. But in his eulogy, the Rabbi quoted from Ecclesiastes which we read at this time of year, not only to every thing there is a season, but from chapter 7 which says that the day of one’s death is better than the day of one’s birth. Our sages explain this by comparing a person to a ship in the harbor. The future of the outgoing ship is unkown; it could do well or it could founder. But an incoming ship has completed its voyage; we know that it departed for its journey safely and we rejoice in its safe return. With people, when they come to the end of their journey we can reflect on the fullness of their lives and rejoice that they lived well. Both my mother and my cousin left legacies of unending loving kindness, generosity and patience, through which, every day, they contributed to the mitzvah of Tikkun Olam – repair of the world. I take comfort in their lives even as I mourn their deaths. I hope to have many more birthdays, but when the last has passed, I hope to merit even a portion of the praise earned by these two exceptional women.
Posted on: Sun, 19 Oct 2014 03:35:52 +0000
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