Bookending Avelut
Anyone who
knows me even a bit also knows that I thrive on social contact and interacting
with people. However, during my year of Avelut for my father, I shied away from
social situations. My guideline was: turn down the volume of my social life
while turning up the volume on my family life. This gave me time and space
to mourn and cherish my memories of my father while pondering my own role as a
mother to my four children.
As I neared the
end of this long year, a close friend gave me a valuable gift. About a month
before the end she said: "Bracha - it's time to start preparing yourself
to step back into life." The Halacha sets up a designated mourning period
of a year for the loss of a parent. When this year comes to a close, we do not
extend it as we are instructed by the Torah: "Bal Tosif" (do not
add). When it is time - it is time.
My friend's
wise words made me mindful of this transition and allowed me time to think
about how it would feel to socialize again and jump back in when the time came.
It felt odd and a bit artificial at the beginning but I was ready and prepared
to shed my cloak of silence.
I shared this
story with my Rosh Yeshiva (R. Jeff Fox) and he pointed out that while the
Halacha helps enormously to transition into mourning, there
are no set laws or customs to transition out of mourning.
Indeed, without my friend's counsel, it would have been much more jarring and
difficult for me.
What R. Jeff
said made me realize the function of two beautiful customs created by women and
for women. These customs "bookend" the year of avelut and
help shape the transitions into and out of saying kaddish.
Ushering In: A woman from my community in
Raanana sadly passed away from cancer after a valiant struggle.
Among her children, she left three triplet daughters. I went to their shul on
the Shabbat during shiva to give comfort to both her husband
and to Judi, the daughter who lives nearby. As I accompanied Judi upstairs
after Kabbalat Shabbat (when the mourners enter) she shared
with me that the triplets had decided to take on saying kaddish together.
Each sister chose a specific tefilla: shacharit,
mincha or arvit to say each day for the entire year.
I was moved to tears and hugged her in silent empathy.
As we walked
into shul, I was surprised to see my friend Talia sitting and
waiting as she doesn't usually daven in that shul. She
rose to greet the new mourner. That's when it clicked - and fresh tears arose
in my eyes. Talia had just finished her own year of saying kaddish for
her father. She was there to accompany the new mourner at her first appearance
in shul saying kaddish. She showed her when and
where to say kaddish and she hugged her when tears slipped
down Judi's face. I could see how comforting and supportive it was for Judi as
she ventured into this new space.
Escorting Out: My friends Sharon, Talia
and others have marked the end of their year of avelut in a
unique and special way. Each of them hosted a se'uda
shlishit on the Shabbat following their last kaddish of
the year. Only women were invited - all women who felt connected to
saying kaddish in some way. This included women who said it three
times a day, some who said it once a day, some who said it on Shabbat and some
on the yahrtzeit. There were also women who had marked their
mourning by going to minyan specifically to answer amen to
other people saying kaddish.
At each
gathering, there was a powerful feeling within this circle of Jewish women. We
felt a strong link with each other - both through our personal loss and through
our choice to step forward and give honor in our bereavement. There were
palpable layers of warmth, understanding and comfort as we helped escort
the avela and (I felt) the neshama as well.
This tradition has been passed along -- woman to woman -- marking the
transition from saying kaddish to fading back into the general
circle of congregants who answer amen.
The short
conversation with Reb Jeff shed a new perspective for me on these and other recently
created traditions. I believe that they have a much larger role to play in our
spiritual lives. They help us celebrate life-cycle events, move through
transitions and achieve closure after difficult ordeals.
I see empty
spaces just waiting for us to fill. Let's do it!
