Today was long, exhausting, overwhelming....and lovely. I can't help but think that it was a funeral that my grandfather would have been proud of, and emotionally moved by.
Before the funeral this morning, after noticing that my grandmother's brother (my grandfather's brother-in-law) had put one of the black kriah ribbons on his shirt, I went in search of extra ribbons, afraid we'd run out. Traditionally, there are seven relationships that, upon their death, you rent your garment - parents (2), sister, brother, son, daughter, and spouse. Ultimately, every grandchild, niece, nephew, son-in-law, sister-in-law, and great-niece took it upon themselves to put on a ribbon because they truly felt like they lost a close, irreplaceable family member.
I looked around the room during Ma'ariv tonight, and realized that with the exception of one uncle who was home (5 minutes away) putting his kids away, I had all my aunts and uncles in the same room. Both sides of the family. That is a testament to the man that my grandfather was - there was no distinction between blood-relatives and everyone else. There was a general love, respect, and admiration for each and every person who passed through his home.
I feel lucky and privilaged to have been able to speak at the funeral today. In case you're interested, here is what I wrote.
Although it is not a tradition we generally hold anymore, there is a special kaddish saved for only two occasions. Classically, Jews have said Kaddish D'itchadata upon completing the study of a sacred text, such as a Masekchet of Talmud...and upon the interment of the dead at a cemetery.
Why these two occasions? What do they have in common?
The answer is simple. It is because it is from both a tractate of the Talmud and from a person’s life, that we, the survivors, have so much left to learn. Just as when we close the physical book, the lessons studied and learned remain; so too when a man’s life is complete, his presence lingers in the lives of the people whom he has touched.
It isn’t hard to think of all the things my grandfather taught us. The hard part is narrowing the list down to a reasonable number to talk about. I thought I’d share with you a few of the lessons we’ve learned from my grandfather.
* Jump in first, deal with wet clothes later, when you see your grandson fall into the hot tub.
* Give tzedakah generously - Israel Bonds, Hillel, the National Spinal Cord Injury Association, at least three different synagogues, and many other organizations that I don’t even know about were all supported by my grandparents.
* Make your words count - he was not a man of many words, but he made his points known, and there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that he loved his family. He said so often.
* Be independent - “who will take care of us?” he would tease, when my grandmother would go away. But really, he knew how to take care of himself. I even called him once (or twice) for instructions on how to boil an egg, when my grandmother wasn’t around.
* Ketchup makes everything taste better - particularly grandchildren.
* Send your wife flowers. Lots of them.
* Sometimes just one birthday card doesn’t say it all. So buy many.
* Speed limit signs are merely suggestions, but try not to get caught by the police. (He wasn’t great at following that one.)
* Its ok to cry - particularly at movies, life cycle events, and the song “Sunrise, Sunset”.
* Treat your employees justly and honestly...but, don’t get your finger stuck in the slicing machine.
* Send your grandkids postcards with pictures of the beach from Florida. Maybe it’ll entice them to come visit.
* Reading the newspaper makes you a smarter, more well-rounded person. Clipping and sending your grandkids articles makes them smarter and more well-rounded as well.
* Love your in-laws, and your children’s in-laws, as much as you love your own blood-relatives.
* Actively participating in synagogue life is important. If you don’t step up and take responsibility for your community, who will?
* And finally, forgiveness is a virtue worth having. Family is more important than any old hurts.
Of course the question we each have to ask ourselves is, what do we do with these lessons? Do we integrate them into our lives? Or do they, like a completed but discarded book, remain on the shelf with all the other books?
I, for one, am going to try to integrate these lessons more fully into my life. Some of them are easier than others. You can bet that I won’t be sticking my finger into a chicken slicing machine any time soon! That one is pretty much a no-brainer. But others are more difficult - forgiving people, going out of my way to make someone else feel good, giving tzedakah - these are more challenging for most people, myself included. Yet they came naturally to my grandfather.
Abraham Joshua Heschel said, “There are three ways to mourn. The first is to cry. The second is to grow silent. The third is to transform sorrow into song.”
It is my hope, and I imagine it would be Papa’s too, that when we are ready, after the tears and after the silence, we can turn our sorrow into song and live fully the lessons Papa taught us.
Zichrono l’vracha - May his memory be a blessing
Recent Comments