Old people die, too

Friday morning there was a funeral in Shiloh, very modest and quiet, like the person who had died.

A relative spoke at the cemetery mentioning those qualities, and "chessed," generosity. For the person who spoke, "death and Shiloh" bring to mind terrorism, so we were reminded that "Old people die, too."






Generally, one of those neighborhood funerals would involve our all walking down to the cemetery, which would have taken about a half an hour or more, since it's a slow dignified pace. Instead, it was announced that in order not to "ask too much" of the community on such a busy Friday, Erev Shabbat, pre-Sabbath preparation time, we should all get into cars and drive down.

Technically, according to Jewish Law, we were supposed to be considerate of the dead, and yes, drop all we were doing to honor the dead and be at the funeral, but the family decided that they wanted to be considerate to us. And so nobody seemed to rush back to the kitchen, and we all were there at the cemetery to bury the dead.

And since life includes the good and bad, the joyous and the sad, the father of the previous night's groom was there with us. Twelve hours after dancing at a local wedding, we were burying a neighbor.




HaMakom y'nachem...
May G-d comfort the mourners...