Category: Death & Mourning

I continued to wonder how a Jew-by-choice goes about honoring a dead loved one in a way that doesn’t offend non-Jewish relatives and honors my adopted Jewish traditions.

Four months ago I was about to get ready for bed when my cellphone rang. I ignored it because it was from an unknown caller. When I ignored it a second time, the caller left a voicemail. It was my stepmother's friend, whom I had never met, calling from a hospital in Texas.

This past Friday afternoon, we hosted the third in our series of #ReimagineRitual Twitter chats, this one on #ReimagineLoss. We discussed ways to remagine Jewish mourning rituals, touching on subjects such as how ritual provides structure for our grief, making sense of the phrase "Baruch Dayan Ha-emet," and grieving practices in Jewish interfaith families. We appreciate the many voices represented in this chat. The aim of these chats is to be the first step in ongoing conversations.

While I have always found Jewish mourning rituals to be meaningful, providing a structure through which to process one of life’s most difficult moments, I have also noticed over the years a few areas in which these rituals could be augmented to mark significant moments for the mourning family and the community that supports them. As someone who is deeply involved in organizations that specifically address Jewish mourning practices, I am particularly interested in seeing creative additions to the repertoire of Jewish mourning rituals.

Two years ago, at age 93, my father passed away suddenly and peacefully in

"Take solace in the fact that she's in a better place now."  "Don't sit around moping after the breakup—you need to get out!" "Cheer up! It'll get better from here." "You just gotta keep busy to keep your mind off of it!" "You're doing great!" "Life goes on, you can't drop out from it forever."

I first suggested a ritual for how we might use Jewish symbols and traditions when faced with closing up the home of a deceased parent shortly after the death of my mother in April 2001.

But what does it mean to honor our departed beloveds by remembering? For me, it means to give kavod, to let their lives have some weight in ours, so that we can be transformed.

In the Jewish tradition we have prayers to mark many phases of the grieving process.  We find comfort when we recite El Maley Rachamim at the funeral, kaddish throughout the mourning period, and yizkor prayers at key moments throughout the year.  

Though random acts of kindness are amazingly inspiring, they leave me wondering whether we can harness this random energy into more sustainable acts of kindness.