Yesterday my husband and I went to Brooklyn. My cousin was sitting Shiva for her younger brother.
We shared memories from the distant and less distant past.
Memories from five years ago, thirty years ago, fifty and seventy years ago and more were shared throughout the day.
We discussed things that were painful and things that were sweet.
There were puzzling memories that only made sense now that we are adults.
The Shiva reinforced the ties between the generations in our family. There was something so potent about the sharing of the stories during Shiva.
I have reached the point of my life where I have a pretty clear idea of the family conditions stored in my body that will
in ten or twenty or twenty five years will lead to my own Shiva. We will, all of us, one day cross that bridge. No, not the one to Brooklyn but the one that leads between the world of the living and that of the dead.
Hopefully my own Shiva will be filled with stories that span back a generation or two and also reach forward even to the youngest in the room.
This is so touching. Kobis getting up from his Shiva this morning. I would say that the stories and sharing have been painful and intense, and comforting. They definitely answer unasked questions, and bring both joy and closure. I wish you × ××× and much š love xx
ReplyDeleteSince I heard the news I have been mentally flipping through the photos that Kobi shared at Ronit's Shiva. I don't think a Pesach will go by when I don't think about Ronit.
DeleteIām not Jewish (although through Ancestry I have discovered that I have a distant Jewish heritage). I like the concept of Shiva and hope that when I pass something like it is done.
ReplyDeleteJewish practices around death, dying and mourning are pretty brilliant. They really help carry one through the loss.
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