A Year of Kaddish

I woke up around three this morning, but could not fall back asleep. Finally, around five, I think I dozed off, but it didn’t feel like quality sleep. That French Press coffee (caffeinated) that I had with dinner at 2T must have done it, I thought. Or maybe it was the call with a friend and teacher from Vancouver after 9 o’clock last night that got me thinking in the middle of the night.

Whatever, when I woke again and looked at the clock, it was six o’clock, the time I normally get out of bed to go to minyan. For a moment, I thought, I’m going to be tired all day if I get up now. And I turned over, burying my head in the pillow, hoping and praying before official prayer services began that I might get some quality sleep. I’d skip the minyan this morning. But another voice, the voice who pushes me, who believes I can suck it up and follow through, yanked me from my false slumber.

I got up. I got dressed. I grabbed my tallis bag and my tefillin bag. And I was out the door and on my bike, riding to shul. I felt better after leading most of the service. It was warm and sunny outside when I walked out.

I’ve been thinking lately about what it means to stick with a commitment, to follow through, especially for the long haul, now that I’m rounding third base, as it were. The 11 months of saying Kaddish is nearing its end. The 16th of Tammuz marks my last day, which corresponds to June 28. It may be a mitzvah or a commandment to say Kaddish daily in my circumstance, but how does that play out when we live in a world where feeling commanded by a Higher Authority is not a given? There’s a concept in something called neo-traditionalism called “voluntary obligation.” Which sounds like an oxymoron, but it may be what got me out of bed this morning. I know there are other places in my life where, commanded or not, I could benefit from  feeling moved to push harder, climb higher, be a better person.