Saying Kaddish: Two-Plus Months and Counting
Wednesday, 14. October 2009
My mom.
My mother, Pearl Felson, died early the morning of August 6 in her sleep in her bed in the home where she had raised me and my two brothers. My dad, Stan, was asleep next to her, when the caregiver woke him to say she thought my mother had stopped breathing. As deaths go, I guess it doesn’t get much better than that.
She was 87. Five months earlier, she was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, which, her oncologist told us, is one of those diseases that’s detected too late to beat. I won’t go into all the details except to say that we all visited her as often as we could. Those close by like my brother, Jeff and his family, as well as my cousins who live nearby in the San Francisco Bay Area; and those of us who live farther away, like me and my family on the East Coast, and my brother, Howard, and his wife, who live in Jerusalem.
But this blog isn’t about my mother’s death or life. Not directly. It’s about what happened, what happens, after. The day of the graveside funeral, that morning, the rabbi stopped by the house and gathered us around the kitchen table to talk about the funeral and explain the Jewish laws and customs of mourning. He mentioned that according to halacha, or Jewish law, a spouse is obligated to say Kaddish daily for one month; when a parent dies, the children say it for eleven months. (Why it’s not a year is another issue for another day). Thus, among observant Jews who are mourning a parent who has died, Kaddish, an Aramaic prayer more than two thousand years old, is said at least three times daily during the morning, afternoon and evening services.
It’s hard to describe where I am on the Jewish spectrum of observance. From where many of my religiously liberal-to-secular Jewish friends stand, I’m this close to being a black-hatted haredi, which is meant to mean I am in their eyes too rigid and religious. I belong to a Conservative shul; I feel comfortable in an Orthodox one. But it is, as I say, all relative. Yet, and here’s the point I’m trying to make, after we buried my mom and during that first week sitting shiva (the seven-day period of mourning), I felt compelled to say Kaddish daily at morning, afternoon and evening services. When I returned home to the Northeast, during the sholoshim, or 30-day period of mourning that comes next, I continued to go to shul nearly every morning and evening (many synagogues hold afternoon and evening services back-to-back for practical reasons). And the next month as well. I’m now into the third month, still getting up to make the 7 a.m. morning service; still returning in the early evening.
My idea is to blog about this new phenomenon in my life; how it affects me and those around me. The prayer services are almost all in Hebrew, and the truth is because many who attend morning services need to get to work afterwards and those who attend evening services want to get home, we davven or pray fairly quickly. That doesn’t leave much time for reflection. For wondering how this process is helping me mourn my loss or feel more spiritual or closer to God. I’m hoping this virtual space will give me that opportunity to explore and sit with those questions. I also welcome your comments and your stories. Like any journey, it’s the experiences and people you encounter along the way that touch you. I’m hoping that will be the case here as well.
Shana Sureck Says:
Len – I look forward to reading this. Having lost my mom three years ago, and my dad a little over a year ago, I certainly will be able to relate, I’m sure, to the journey you’re on. I wish I’d written more during those months.
Sharron Freeman Says:
I like that you chose a black background – a perfect mourning salute to your white words of wisdom. Since I wear so much black already, perhaps that signals to the world that I’m in a permanent state of mourning. Hmm. Interesting insight…eh?
Even though I’m on the very far left end of your liberal-secular spectrum of observance, I look forward to reading about your newest venture, since I, too, have been in mourning for the past month. I put added your blog to my blog site – because bloggers of a feather should stick together.
Lee Says:
Hi Leonard,
Very nice start to your blog. As one of the more secular Jews, I’m curious how this will play out. Reflection on your mother’s life is good, but does religion play much of a role in that? I guess we’ll see.
Shalom
AdamF. Says:
Auntie Pearl was always happy to see us and I am thankful that I got to know her. I think it’s great that you are writing about your mourning process (and publicly)…
Roz Says:
Len- We have been there or will be in one way or another. Some of us are not always sure how we feel, or felt, or think about saying Kaddish for eleven months. You are giving a gift to anyone who chooses to read it. I myself have chosen to read your blog.
Modya Says:
Len,
Thank you for sharing. I like your “not knowing” but somehow still honouring a time-swept process of release and acceptance. I look forward to seeing the year unfold and seeing what inner sparks the process may ignite for you and how your Mum may live on through those new sparks.
Modya
MarkF Says:
Len, May you be comforted by your commitment. I think it’s a two way street. The tradition helps you cope and strengthens your confidence of honoring religious practice. For me Shiva was an enormous validation of me and my affection/devotion to my late wife. Sholoshim helped me feel a sense of continuity in that it was something positive I could do that felt like the routine tasks of caregiving. Without that, I would have felt the emptiness more keenly. I was surprised to discover that saying Kaddish for 11 months doesn’t apply for a spouse. I needed and did more in the form of private secular practices to help me remember and honor her. For each of my parents who are both gone, I stopped going to daily services and just said Kaddish when I happened to be in Synagogue. I felt a bit guilty not doing more, but knowing I was welcome to go any or every day had a subtle comforting effect.
Rona B. Says:
As one of your liberal-secular friends, I want to say that I do not view you as being “too” rigid and/or religious. I would think that many of your friends would agree. I respect you for your convictions and really do understand. I think that this blog is a wonderful idea and will be a positive process.
Charlotte Libov Says:
I’ll follow this, Len.
David B. Says:
Thanks for writing, Len.
Joe Says:
Len..good luck with this project, and I hope that there is some catharsis and meaning out of the experience that we can share with you.
Win Says:
Hi Len — although I share Lee’s thoughts above, I respect your values and hope that this blog will help you move through your grieving process and offer a catharsis and peace…
Take care…
–Win
Linda S Says:
In response to Mark’s comments. Many of us struggle with this idea of 30 days versus 11 months for a spouse. We need to keep in mind that Jewish tradition always cautions us against overdoing anything. Losing a spouse, especially one who seemed an extension of your own breath, is painful beyond words. Being officially “no longer in mourning” surely is not intended to stop the grieving process. But sometimes it gives you a pass, again, to move forward, even when you don’t really want to. In some ways, the shorter kaddish almost seems like an act of rachmanus.
C. Freeman Says:
Len – this is a wonderful endeavor and I look forward to reading your thoughts!
Christy
Robin R. Says:
Len,
I appreciate you sharing your experience. It is sure to be comforting to you and valuable to others.
Robin R.
barry Says:
I just stumbled across this blog when searching “Kaddish’. Dad passed away 3 weeks ago today. I have been trying to gt to shul to say kaddish at least once a day (with work schedule, twice a day is sometimes not possible). I am intrigued by the concept of using a virtual minyan online to accomplish this. I have spoken to a Conservative rabbi (who is also a friend) who feels this does not meet all the requirements of ‘community’ that would be found in a ‘live’ minyan but would be better than not getting to say Kaddish at all on a given day. Any thoughts?
Leonard Felson Says:
As someone who connects easily to online communities, I could see the value in a virtual minyan. But as someone who also values tradition, I respect those who say it doesn’t meet all the requirements of ‘community.’ I also find there’s something about getting out and going to shul, being surrounded by other members of the community, even not knowing whether you’ll have a minyan on a given morning or evening.
barry Says:
I appreciate your comments. As I mentioned before, although the Conservative Rabbi I spoke with did not feel a minyan online would meet the requirement of community present ‘in person’, he did feel that it was better than not being able to say kaddsh at all on a given day. Do you not agree? By the way, I have tried to find such a virtual minyan online and, so far, have not succeeeded. Any idea where (or if) such might exist?
Barry
barry Says:
Leonard, having a little more time right now than I did when I posted my first comment, I have gone back and read your original blog and have some additinal thoughts.
I reside in South Florida with my parents being from the northeast. My parents have been snowbirds to South Florida for a number of years and determined it was time to go back up north in the middle of December. Considering the weather situation at that time – the Northeast relative to South Florida – the only reason that would have been done was because of the anticipation that the end for Dad was approaching. Dad passed away peacefully at teh age of 94 at home on January 15.
After stting shivah with famliy in NJ for seven days – some of my [Jewish] colleagues were surprised that this would be a seven day period. One said he thought that was kind of an outdated ‘medieval’ custom. I had to [jokenly] threaten to send him back for a compulsory Hebrew school refresher to relearn the meaning of the word ’shivah’! – I returnd to South Florida and have committed myself to saying kaddish for Dad as often as possible (generally averaging about once a day).
In this spirit, I have tried to approach the process ’semi-scientifically’. I have put together an informal database of minyanim (both on the east coast of FL where I reside as well as the FL west coast, where I travel to a few weekend a month. As you can probably imagine, there are quite a few more on the east coast!). In this regard, I have gotten quite an education and have attended Orthodox, Conservative, and Reform minyanim.
The process has been an educational one for me and I know Dad would be
proud that I am doing this. On balance, though, it is for me. A psychiatrist I know would say that what I am doing is egocentonic for me.
Barry
Arnold Lukeman Says:
Hi Len
I Live in England and although we call ourselves by different names in this country I think it’s true to say that I am, like the majority of British Jews ” middle of the road” although belonging to a nominally orthodox congregation.
I lost my younger brother two weeks ago and I am in the middle of Shaloshim. I have attended shul every day for Shacharit and Mincha/Maariv and recite kaddish. I agree that the Rabbi and the more learned of our congregation recite the prayers at a rate that it would be impossible to read if they were in English.However being in Shul in the presence of other ovelim is a consolation and gives me time for reflection and some degree of comfort. Losing a sibling is quite different to losing an aged parent, who’s passing although always sad is somehow more acceptable and easier to come to terms with. 30 days official mourning and the recital of kaddish is a small price to pay for
the memory of a beloved younger brother.
I wish you and your family long life.