When my kids were little and of the age when they could best deal with the frustration with a tantrum or otherwise unpleasant behavior, I hit on the concept that each child had a certain amount of bad behavior they were entitled to in a day. There were some days when they never got close to hitting that limit. There were days that they hit that bad behavior limit late in the day. There were other days that while breakfast was still on the table their allotment had been used up. I would let them know that their bad behavior allotment for the day was used up and that they could start again tomorrow. I don't know why, but that strategy often worked.
During the past two years of Covid, I have used various strategies to keep me going. I have thought often of cousins who survived the deprivation and siege of the Warsaw Ghetto. They survived. They even survived the camps. Frankly, I don't think I have the emotional fortitude or physical stamina to have survived the camps. I can though imagine myself in the Warsaw Ghetto as things go from unpleasant to awful and even worse. So I think of my cousins getting up day after day, getting through day after day re-adjusting their expectations for the new and worse state of normal.
I keep thinking of them and am inspired by their willingness to keep going. If they could do it, so can I.
I have also throughout the pandemic thought a great deal about my great grandfather Chaim Weisglass. He escaped his home just outside of Czernowitz around 1895 and came to New York. He earned enough money to bring over the rest of his family and find work as the owner of a bakery and then possibly as the manufacturer of women's dresses.
Chaim survived the first wave of the flu epidemic in 1918. He died at just about this time of year in 1919. Chaim's death was the pebble in the pond that has sent waves of bad things long into the future. My mother and my grandmother, Chaim's daughter, both died this time of year.
I am thinking about resiliance.
So how many deaths of friends in one week is too many? I think I may have hit my limit this week.
Since last Monday I have heard of the deaths of three friends. Two I had met in college. One I had met on my first day in college. He lived downstairs from me and was essential to my life during my freshman year. Today I attended the funeral of another college friend. We were part of the same social circle in college. We haven't been close but we have enjoyed one another's company each time we have run into one another over the past several decades.
The last loss of this week is a friend from my synagogue. He was just bout my father's age---and perennially youthful.
I know that lots of you reading this have lost people far closer in your circles of kinship and love. I am not asking for words of condolence. I just want to say that this feels like a lot.
I am thinking about our rabbi who is shepherding so many people through their grief as the pandemic goes through family after family. I think about my dear friend Kara who is a hospital chaplain and during this time has had to bury her own father.
Dear Sarah, I agree. It is a lot. I did some reading about different kinds of loss this week, and one type of loss we grieve is called Disenfranchised Grief in which we grieve for people that persons experience that is not or cannot be openly acknowledged, socially sanctioned, or publicly mourned. The definition lists former colleagues as people we might feel disenfranchised grief for. As you said you aren't hoping for words of comfort, I'll say your quota of losses this week tips your scales and gives you all the ice cream you need to get through this.
ReplyDeleteLove xx
Thank you. I virtually attended the funeral of one of my college friends who had died yesterday morning .
ReplyDeleteSunday three of us have organized a time to mourn our other friend together inviting people from our college year to join us.
I think that what I am trying to say is that I don't want to be for lack of a better word a sympathy hog...In the past several weeks so many friends have lost parents.
Over the past days I have been remembering my freshman year---disco dancing in my friend's dorm room, thinking about how he elevated the banality of his suburban home town into something epic almost mythological. So many lovely memories of my friend have been traveling through my head as the three of us who are organizing the memorial call are doing the nitty gritty of making that work.
Marking these deaths has allowed me to revisit memories from years ago to think about the importance these people have had in my life.
I have found though that I haven't quite the emotional bandwidth to offer comfort to people in my community who are experiencing loss. In normal times I would have written a condolence note--- these past few weeks, I have found the task just too difficult . I just haven't enough emotional gas in the tank.
Periodically during this pandemic I have had to re-arrange the furniture in my brain so I can keep going. This last batch of deaths is one of those times. I wrote this...when realizing that the time has come to move that furniture around---again
I can relate, Sarah. I lost 2 long time friends within a week of each other. Heartbreaking and once again, it forced me to reflect on the brevity of our time on the planet. I will become a grandmother for the first time this summer, adding to my periods of reflection, a reminder that the circle of life goes on, in spite of the losses.
ReplyDeleteWishing you comfort on your losses. So excited about this baby. are you sewing like a madwoman already? ??
DeleteI'm wishing the world were different right now - we'd meet for coffee, I'd give you a hug. So when you have your next cup of coffee, raise your cup and know I'm thinking of you. And, for what it's worth, here's my virtual hug.
ReplyDeleteLifting my coffee cup right now. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteI read this with great feelings. In January my daughter and son-in-law, not yet 40, lost 3 classmates and a dear teacher. Two of these people have been dear to us as well. We also remembered the deaths of both my parents, my father-in-law, my son-in-law 's mother and my favorite aunt in the month. It has made it difficult to carry on some days. Turning to my art work has been my comfort.
ReplyDeleteOh Sue! So much loss! It can be hard to balance feeling the sadness so we can honor the memory of each person we have lost and being drawn out to sea in an ocean of sadness and grief.
ReplyDeleteArt work,and hand work is incredibly healing.Your comment inspired me to write to a friend who is currently in hospice to let her know how much she has meant to me.
One of the truly brilliant aspects of Judaism are the laws and customs around death and mourning. Those laws and customs remind the mourners that people pull one another through grief.
We can drag one another through the worst of the pain. Thank you for your words that pushed me to do the hard task of writing to my friend.