The last morning
Today was my last day of saying kaddish for my mother. Today is the last morning for a long time that I will see dawn breaking over Broadway.
There was a group of us who had all experienced loss within a couple of weeks of one another. Over the past year I joined with people who were just ahead of me in feeling the trauma of their loss. As the year went on, others joined the roster of mourners. As people's years of mourning drew to an end the group we were together, shifted and rearranged itself.
When I was saying Kaddish for my father I often thought of him during the service. This go around I realized that I had fewer thoughts of my mother during services. This go around I have been called on to lead fairly frequently.
Being able to sing in public,without choking, without losing my breath has been a learned skill. This year I have been called to be shlichat tzibur fairly often.
As I lead services, I have realized that my voice is my mother's voice. I haven't had to recall specific moments because as I sing I hear my mother's voice coming out of my throat.