Israel's National Mourning Memorial Day, One People

Growing up in Bell Park Gardens, Bayside, NY, post-World War Two I don't remember anything about Memorial Day, except that it was a long weekend. Here in Israel it's a day of National Mourning, and even young children are exposed to the "nasty fact" that there is evil and people die.

As a child I knew very well that people die. Between the ages of almost three and three and a half, I had lost both maternal grandparents and an uncle. I have strong memories of those grandparents. Then when I was about twelve another uncle died, but none of them died in battle, nor did I grow up hearing anything about the Nazis or the Holocaust.

Life in Israel is rooted in reality. Children are taken to funerals, cemeteries and memorial ceremonies. They are taught about real people who had been killed fighting for Israel's independence and continued existence. They are taught about real people of all ages murdered by Arab terrorists.

Today is a day of national mourning for the soldiers and victims of terror attacks,  Soldiers and Terror Victims Memorial Day. Last night I ended up attending a very moving, well produced ceremony in Jerusalem. I missed being home in Shiloh, where most of the stories would be about people I had known. But instead of feeling like an outsider, attending that Jerusalem ceremony just reminded me how we are one nation, one people, one family.

Judaism Respect for The Dead and General Mourning Customs

Yesterday I posted the photo below to the 365project.org, and some of the members found it interesting and asked questions about the Jewish attitude towards death and funerals.

Funeral Today

A lovely man, good neighbor, who always tried to help others and was devoted to the community and his family died this morning and was buried this afternoon.

In Judaism, one is required to bury the dead as soon as possible, preferably the same day as the death occurs. Leaving the body unburied is a sign of disrespect and causes suffering to the soul.

One of the reasons I took this photo in black and white is that there's a weeklong black and white photo meme floating around facebook I was asked to join. The funeral was a perfect location for black and white.  But since it's a colorless photo you can't see that people are dressed in regular colored clothes, including the close family mourners who aren't shown here.

According to Jewish Law and custom, one doesn't dress up in formal black for a funeral or mourning, and mourners certainly don't rush out to buy a well cut and tailored black suit for the occasion. During mourning the aesthetic is to be ignored. At the cemetery, just before burial the immediate family, the dead person's children, spouse, siblings and parents have their clothing cut and ripped to symbolize the loss and damage to the family.

Once the dead person is buried, the mourners change out of leather shoes and wear cloth of plastic/rubber ones.

Then, after the funeral, they "sit shiva," have a weeklong period of mourning in which they wear those same clothes and don't comb their hair. Mirrors and other reflective surfaces in the home are covered, so the mourner will not be able to check how he or she looks. There is also no washing or bathing besides minimal personal hygiene. The only break in this is for the Sabbath, when one bathes simply, meaning no long pleasurable shower or bubble bath, and then puts on clean Shabbat clothes. 

The mourners are not supposed to be involved in any of the logistics and chores of everyday life. Friends, neighbors and more distant relatives are supposed to supply them with food etc. People come to give their condolences, share and listen to stories of the dead person. The mourners are encouraged to talk about the dead one. Conversation is supposed to be initiated by the mourner and kept on topic. Visitors aren't supposed to converse among themselves. One is not supposed to ask the mourner how he/she feels.

At the beginning of the seventh day, the mourners "get up." It's customary for visitors to literally help them up and take them out the door and walk a bit. Then the mourner goes home to bathe and change into clean clothes.

During the thirty days after a death, the mourners are also forbidden to have haircuts and shave.

The mourning period is stopped by certain Jewish Holidays, since the national religious celebrations are more important than personal ones.

This post is just a general post about Jewish Mourning, so I'm not going into great detail. If you want to know more click Judaism 101 and  Chabad.

One of Those Weeks and A Bit About Shiloh

They say things come in three's...
(Apologies if it's based on some Christian theology.)

As you can see from the bulletin board, three "death notices." If you don't know Hebrew at all, the words ברוך דיין האמת BARUCH DAYAN HA'EMET, mean Blessed is the True Judge, and the phrase is used to announce or react to the death of a person.

Two of the families I know very extremely well, and the third, I'm just acquainted with. But the strangest thing is about these three is that they have something in common. They are all American-Israeli.

Now you probably know that Shiloh isn't considered one of those very "Anglo communities" in which one can easily manage barely knowing any Hebrew.  But the truth is that there is a sizable and active English speaking community, of which some members aren't "anglo-born." To be more accurate, there are two anglo crowds in Shiloh. One is of my generation which includes great-grandparents and young grandparents, and the other one is a generation younger. That younger generation includes immigrants and native-born Israelis who were raised in English-speaking homes, some of whom surprise people with their perfect English.

Only one of the mourning families is sitting shiva in Shiloh, two of the funeral were at exactly the same time but different cities, and the third will get up from shiva this morning.

המקום ינחם X3

HAMAKOM YINACHEM X3

MAY GD COMFORT ALL THREE FAMILIES

Funeral in Ariel, Jewish Burial Customs

It was one of those midnight funerals which are very common in Israel, especially after Shabbat. According to Jewish Law, we are required to bury the dead as soon as possible, preferably on the same day.  So, especially when someone dies on a Friday, if the funeral can't be held before Shabbat, then it's held a few hours after Shabbat is over. And in Jerusalem, Shiloh and some other locations, it's very common for someone who had died on Shabbat to be buried after Shabbat. Yes, even religious Sabbath-observing people manage to get the news out quickly enough after Shabbat.

Davka, last night two young neighbors were burying parents, one in Jerusalem and one in Ariel. The community's email and tremp Whatsapp groups were full of offers for rides to both. Of course, since both were at the exact same time, we had to choose.

I went to the one in Ariel. It was the first time I had been in that cemetery, the New Ariel Cemetery, as it's called.

Grave stones reflect the culture of the community buried there. As you can see, there's lots of Russian written on the stones here, besides Hebrew. And there are also all sorts of flowers and other decorations I don't usually see in Israeli cemeteries.  It's not the style of the graves in Shiloh or Elkana. Families are given a lot of leeway according to Jewish Law. There are also Jewish cemeteries that have a requirement of uniform stones. That's what I saw where my aunt and uncle are buried in Florida. In the Long Island cemetery where my parents and brother are buried, there's a variety of stones, but nothing as creative as these. But I've seen some very interesting ones in Har Menuchot in Jerusalem.

May Gd give comfort to the mourners...

המקום ינחם

Finally Music and Joy After Long Mourning Year

According to Jewish Law and custom, one observes a year of mourning for a parent and thirty days for a sibling, spouse or child. During that year of mourning, one is to refrain from attending joyous, musical and festive events. That is unless it is your profession to perform or teach. Also, with "adjustments" one can attend the wedding or other type of joyous occasion for a close relative.

Even though the year for my father was over before Passover, two and a half months ago, only now have I gotten to attend any "joyous events." And that ended up one night after the next. And if I could have split myself in half I would have been at two events the first night. But since I work late Wednesday, I couldn't make the wedding we had been invited to, so I went to a granddaughter's piano recital.  It was thrilling to hear the improvement, since I hadn't been to one for over a year and a half.

And last night I dressed up to finally attend a wedding, which was great fun, but rather disorienting. I really felt that it was strange to be back at such events. I had missed so many significant weddings during the past year. It really brought me that feeling that my year was different. Israelis generally do rather large weddings, so one gets invited even if not all that close. But during the year I was mourning my father, friends celebrated weddings that also meant a lot to me, and they found my absence sad, too.

That's life. There are times we mourn and times we celebrate.

Shabbat Shalom and Good Health to All

Another Night Funeral

The Jewish custom is to bury the dead as soon as possible, so the nishama soul can return as quickly as possible to Gd and not have to wait. Here in Shiloh we have adopted the Jerusalem custom on nighttime funerals, including after Shabbat.

The little girl, who had fought cancer for about a year, died just before Shabbat. We were notified right after Shabbat, and she was buried last night. At least a couple of hundred people of all ages attended to accompany her body to its grave. We grieve for the loss of life and the pain of the parents, grandparents, siblings, extended family and many friends.

המקום ינחם

HaMakom Yinachem

May Gd Comfort The Mourners...

Sitting Shiva, Showing Home Movies and Other Tips

I'm almost finished sitting shiva for my brother. Just over two hours left. Soon I'll change out of  my shiva "outfit," the same clothes I've been wearing since leaving for his funeral. Except for Shabbat, I've been wearing the very same outer clothes, skirt and two-layer top. The outer shirt was ripped at the funeral in one of the Jewish customs.

When we sit shiva, weeklong Jewish mourning, one is supposed to ignore the usual dressing and grooming care. No hairbrushing or clean clothes. Also no bathing. Yes for sure, I'm looking forward to taking a shower, shampoo and putting on something clean!

The night before my brother's funeral I was at my New York daughter's, and she took out a set of DVDs that my brother had made from our old home movies. We watched a couple of hours worth. She gave me the package, and I took them home. Yesterday I decided to put them on to watch and turned off the sound. The sound was just some musical accompaniment the "film to DVD" place had added. In the 1950's and early sixties, home movies were silent.

So, in addition to the little album my eldest daughter had made before I left Israel for the funeral, I now had moving pictures of my brother and our family life way back when to show those who came to לנחם linachem, comfort me. These family movies were from about 1956-1960, if I'm not mistaken. There are additional DVDs that follow my parents and us well into the early 1980s when we moved to Shiloh.

Here I am riding my bicycle near our last* Bell Park Gardens, Bayside, NY apartment, 67-62 Springfield Blvd.

I moved the low chair I had been sitting in to a place I could also see the screen, and I'd talk about my brother and the world in which we grew up.

One advantage of showing the home movies over the picture album, which people continued to look at especially since it included photos from his entire life up to a few weeks before my brother died, was because pretty much everyone in the room could see it at once.

Few of those who came had any real idea of what it was like in a place like Bell Park Gardens, which was such an important formative part of our childhood. My brother was ten when we moved to Great Neck. Seeing us and it, in faded color, brought my stories to life far superior to even the most descriptive words.

And for me it was very meaningful and comforting to see my family, parents, siblings, cousins, aunts, uncles, friends and the locations which loved and shaped us all.

*We lived in three different apartments in Bell Park Gardens from December 1949- August 1962.

Bereavement Upgrade

Apparently there was a time, and there still are a small list of airlines, when it was possible to get a discount on flights when off to a funeral of a close relative. The travel agent who booked the flight to and from my mother's funeral didn't get me it or mentioned the possibility, but the new agent I've been using did.

My original booking was for a seat towards the very end of the plane, about row 57, but at the gate my boarding pass was taken away and a new one issued for First Class. In the end I found myself in the first row of Business Class which is just as good, as far as I'm concerned.

On the El Al plane I flew on, both of those sections had the same fantastic seats. They were fully adjustable from seated to fully reclining. I was most comfortable in the "relax" position with my feet higher. There was a slight difference, from what I could see, in the food, but in all honesty Business Class was all I needed.

In First Class, each row is separated for more privacy.

On the trip back, I was in a regular row/seat. B"H, the seat next to me ended up unoccupied, which is always nicer.

And as you know, I'm now back home sitting shiva for my brother until Thursday morning.

In Mourning...

I'll be taking a break from my regular schedule, since my brother passed away yesterday. Others may be posting on the blog. I may or may not or on different topics.

My brother didn't marry, so the mourners are me, my sister, our children, grandchildren and lots of loving cousins and family friends. The funeral will be in New York, and then next week I will return to Shiloh to finish the shiva.

my brother, the loving uncle


My brother lived in Israel for quite a few months in the early 1970's and learned Hebrew in Moshav Argaman, when it had a "kibbutz ulpan" set up.

May he know peace...

Jewish Mourning: Got Up From Shiva Before My Father was Buried

my father and I

All in all, there's nothing more humane, suitable for us humans than the Jewish Laws of Mourning. Sometimes things may seem a bit peculiar, such as the fact that I ended up not only sitting shiva (observing the traditional week-long mourning period) before my father was actually buried, but I ended it before his actual funeral.

my mother and I

What was this based on? You may be wondering. Everything I did was as per the instructions of our local rabbi, Rabbi Elchanan Ben-Nun. What I will write here is all layman style; I do not know on which halachot and tshuvot etc. anything was based on. But I must say that none of this was actually surprising or new to me. Sitting shiva before the funeral takes place is common when family members are separated by great distances or can't travel for other reasons.

After my sister called, the Tuesday morning before Passover, 11 Nissan, that our father had passed away, immediately after notifying my husband and kids I contacted Rav Elchanan. In that very first message to him I made it clear that I would not be traveling to New York for the funeral, nor was I involved with the logistics of the funeral and transporting my father from Arizona to NY. He responded that I should be prepared to sit shiva "immediately." "Immediately" did not mean that very minute, but when he'd make it over to my house in a couple of hours. In the meantime I should arrange to have someone available to do "kri'ah," make the first cut in my ritual ripping of shirt I was wearing, and while waiting I could continue with pre-Passover cleaning etc.

By the time the Rav came over, a few friends knew including the one I had chosen for the "first cut." I had done that for her a number a years ago when her own father had died. She, too, had sat shiva at home with her children in attendance, while the funeral was abroad.

At the same time I was making preparations to sit shiva, nobody was even sure when my father's funeral would be. It was in the middle of the night Arizona time, and American funerals, even Jewish ones, are not all that soon after death. Jewish Law requires that the body should be returned to the ground and soon as possible, generally the same day. Waiting to be buried is considered as making the dead person "suffer."

In Israel our guess was that my father's funeral would be either late Thursday or on Friday. Please don't forget that Friday night began Passover, and the Pesach Seder would be then.

According to Jewish Law, the major holidays, such as Passover, stop shiva, so I knew that I'd be finished Friday early afternoon, and I also knew that even if my father was buried Friday afternoon, the shiva would be very short, possibly counted in minutes only. That is what happened when my mother's mother had died sixty-four 64 years ago.

When Rav Elchanan came over, he supervised the kri'ah and told me that the actual shiva would only begin when I got notice that my father was in the hands of the chevra kadish,  the Jewish Mortuary workers. So I asked my sister to notify me. In the meantime I could continue getting ready for Pesach, as if I could concentrate on anything. I asked about the traditional "after the funeral meal" of round food, like eggs and bagels, or pita, and the rabbi said that I did need it. I asked if I could prepare for that, and he said:

"No, that is the job of the neighbors."

So I let them know, and food arrived when needed. My children came during this crazy time and helped get the house ready for shiva. Once I got notice from my sister, the shiva began for me. And due to the difference in time between New York and Israel, I was already "up" and ready for Passover before my father's New York funeral began.

I am grateful that in this modern world with cellphones and internet I knew immediately that he had passed away, because not all that long ago communication took longer, much longer. If notice of a death is over a month after the fact, then there is only a short symbolic shiva, which happened to a friend of ours. But that's another story...

At my mother's "unveiling." They have a double stone, which has been "waiting" for my father to rejoin her.

I hope that this clarifies things for those who haven't heard how Jewish Mourning can work when not all live in the same area. Please consult with an Orthodox Jewish Rabbi when confronted with such situations.

Sitting Shiva is Very "Macro"

Davka, just the week that 52Frames had "Macro" for its theme/challenge my father passed away. I had a strong feeling from what I had been told by my sister that his time was short, and I rushed submitting my photo, so it wouldn't prey on my mind.

"Flower Power"
This tiny flower, less than an inch in diameter, is from a bunch given by a guest. I don't have a fancy camera with lenses and all, so this is the best I can do.

Camera: Canon Canon IXUS 145
Location: Shiloh, Israel

And now that I'm both "up from shiva," the intense Jewish mourning period, which is usually after the burial,* and I was also about to write my usual weekly post about my the photo I had submitted to 52Frames, I feel a connection between the two.

macro photography
photography producing photographs of small items larger than life size

When one is sitting shiva, one is supposed to concentrate one's energies and conversation on the dead person, the person being mourned, which consequently makes him or her "larger than life size." In death we are equal. Nobody can defeat it.

For years I've seen the Hebrew word אמת emmet, generally translated to mean "truth," as a verb. The מ ת mem, tof are the root that means dead/die and the א alef when a prefix on a verb is first person future.  So in my way of reading/understanding the word  אמת emmet it means "I will die," and that is the truth for all of us humans.

I don't know of any linguists or theologians who have written in this direction on the word. I am interested in your feedback, thanks.

Links to the posts I wrote about my father, after his death:

Sidney Spiegelman, 1920-2016, 5680-5776

Sidney Spiegelman, Z"L, 1920-2016, As An Israeli

My Father, Sidney Spiegelman, Z"L

Modern Condolence Calls, Not F2F

Re: My Father's Father's Family "Three Minutes in Poland"

Reflecting on Sitting Shiva for My Father

* I guess that I still have to explain at some point, not this post, why I sat shiva before my father was buried. But today that's not the planned post.

Modern Condolence Calls, Not F2F

My Mother, Shirley Spiegelman, Z"L, 1925-2013
A great beauty to the end...

My mother, and her younger sister were "shiva champs," both having sat shiva nine times for parents and siblings before their own deaths.
My mother,who suffered from senility in her final years, was not capable of a shiva for her younger sister a few months before her own death, which would have made her grand total for sitting shiva ten. As you can imagine, Jewish Mourning, the "shiva" was part of my earliest childhood, especially since both my maternal grandparents and my oldest uncle passed away in less than a year, before I had turned four. A couple of other of her siblings died before I got married and moved to Israel.

In those days, if you couldn't pay a shiva call in person, or like when my mother's mother died just hours before the Passover Seder, 1952, cancelling shiva*, which caused a terrible difficulty among the mourners as one of my older cousins remembers vividly to this day, you sent a condolence card. I remember seeing them around and even sending some when circumstances necessitated.

You must remember that even non-local phone calls were very expensive until a couple of decades ago, and email/internet/whatsapp could barely be thought of even as science fiction. Does anyone remember the telegram?

My father, Sidney Spiegelman, Z"L, 1920-2016
holding the invitation to the wedding of his grandson
which my parents couldn't attend. My mother actually
passed away just a couple of months before the wedding.

It's not even a week since my father died, and I've already sat shiva here in Shiloh, gotten up (before he was even buried,) celebrated the Passover Seder and even had my first "outing" with a cousin and our husbands.

Besides the surprising amount of people who managed to make the time to visit/comfort לנחם me here in Shiloh during my almost three day (Erev/Eve of Passover) shiva, dozens, or a hundred or more people either phoned or sent a wide variety of modern messages.

The beauty of the modern age, and easy communication is that not only family and friends can "comfort" the mourner and show respect, but even strangers who are inspired by the story, or as in my case those who only know me on the internet, facebook or read my blogs. And speaking of my blogs, last night dear friends, extended family (cousins of my father's cousins) called me up and told me that they had only heard of my father's passing from my Arutz 7 blog post. Unlike when my in-laws died, I didn't even think of putting ads/announcements in the Jerusalem Post and Torah Tidbits.  There were so many other things/logistics to think about.

According to Jewish Law, the mourning and comforting periods for a parent last a year, so no doubt I'll be blogging more about the topic and about my parents. And it's never too late to express one's condolences לנחם linachem.

Honestly, I have found comfort in the calls and notes. Thanks.

*When the burial is just before a Jewish Holiday, the shiva is reduced to barely an hour (maximum it could be a few hours until just after noon/half-day), and not continued/resumed afterwards.

Reflecting on Sitting Shiva for My Father

My Father, Sidney Spiegelman, Z"L, 1920-2016
Photo I took just a few months ago, during my last visit with him.

Looking at this picture of my father, you wouldn't think that he had been "evaluated" as suffering from severe dementia. Dementia is such a strange condition. I don't think you can accurately call it a "disease."

During the almost three days I had to sit shiva for him, I tried to describe him as accurately as possible, the father he was to me when he was young, the man many of my neighbors knew when he lived with us, and the person he became afterwards when in Arizona.

Shiva is a wonderful thing and so helpful for the mourner. I'm sorry that my brother and sister didn't have the experience I did. That's for a few reasons.

The first is that my father's death was less than a week before Passover, so I couldn't attend. Because I stayed home in Israel I sat shiva pretty much from when I got notice until just before the holiday started. Actually I had ended the shiva even before he was buried. My brother and sister had no real time for a shiva, not even a short one, like I observed. And another reason is that they aren't involved members of a Jewish community.

"Shiva" the mourning period is a complex time according to Jewish Law. "Shiva" comes from the word sheva, seven and is that because under normal conditions, for seven days after a person is buried, the close family members, children, siblings and spouse, are supposed to take a break from their normal routines and responsibilities. The community and family members not required to "sit shiva" are to take over and take care of the mourner. Food and household chores are to be done by them, so the mourner can concentrate on being together, when applicable, and telling those coming to comfort לנחם linachem about the person who had passed away.

Those coming to comfort are to remember not to bring up other topics unless the mourner specifically asks. Generally, one isn't supposed to speak unless the mourner initiates conversation. But it's acceptable to ask about the dead family member, like:

• How old was he/she?
• What did he/she do?
• Where was he/she born?
• How old?

Yes, questions that will facilitate talk by the mourner. Most of the time, the people who came to comfort really kept the conversation on proper target, and I did find it very comforting. But I must admit that the rare times when visitors were too busy trying to "entertain" with their own news got not only me, but others in the room annoyed and upset. Sometimes I could get it back on track by starting to distribute pictures of my father, especially from his service in the U.S. Navy during World War Two. People usually got the hint and started asking good questions. 

Sitting shiva on my own was particularly exhausting. It also meant that when someone called me own the phone as a "shiva call" I had to speak even when the room was full. Those calls were important, as important as those who had been able to come to the house. Everyone understood that. 

Neighbors brought food for me to eat while I was sitting shiva. Normally, in previous times when my husband sat for his parents and I sat for my mother, the kids and I took care of all the meals. But this time, since it was just before Passover, and the cleaning and Passover cleaning had to continue, as I sat, though not by me, my children were very busy in the house. I didn't want to ask them to also make me food. My Israeli children, the grandchildren and my husband got the house all ready for Passover. At most I gave some instructions, especially about where things were or where they should be put.

If it had been possible, my children would have gotten a lot out of being part of the talk during the shiva. They would have found it a comfort, as I had.

I had really been hoping that my father would somehow have died during a time in the year when my sister could have come home to Shiloh with me and we could have sat together here for a few days. Many of my neighbors knew him and have very fond memories. 

Now it's already Passover, post-seder. One of my daughters did all of the cooking for us, though she wasn't with us for the seder. We were with two other children here at home. They did their best to make me a comfortable as possible. 

Yes, life must go on...

Visiting Kibbutz Yavne

Friday morning I got up early for the trip to Kibbutz Yavne.

No, it wasn't a pleasure trip. It was only the second time I had ever been there. The first time was over a decade ago. My neighbor's father had died and I managed to get a ride to the funeral. And now her mother had passed away, and I wanted to pay a shiva call.

So, I was lucky to find a ride Friday morning, when I was free. I joined a car full of women wondering how we'd manage to fit in all of our cooking and Shabbat preparations before candle lighting, which is so early this time of year. But the trip took less time than we had expected. There was little traffic in both directions. And we're all very experienced housekeepers along with the rest of our responsibilities.

Our neighbor and all of her siblings had long left the kibbutz, so when her mother had to enter nursing home there, yes there is a proper and professional nursing home on Kibbutz Yavne, her apartment was no longer hers. Being that many families are in that situation, and since in the traditional kibbutz people had very small homes, there are "guest facilities." Actually, that's where the family was housed for the shiva (mourning.) The building we went to had formerly been a "children's home" in the days when children did not live with their parents. Once the policy had changed, the building was renovated for its new use.

Of course the kibbutz took care of all of the family's needs during the shiva, food, cleaning, etc. And having a bunch of rooms meant that each of the mourning children could receive guests without disturbing each other.

Kibbutzim are well-known for the meticulous upkeep of public areas, as you can see in these pictures taken near the house where my friend was sitting shiva. There were also very easy to follow signs leading us to the "house of mourners" once we entered the kibbutz. We did not have to look for people to direct us.

Many of the kibbutzim are no longer kibbutzim, but Kibbutz Yavne still functions, though not exactly as it once did. The concept/philosophy of extreme socialism and group over individual needs is the antithesis of modern life.

Better Late than Never, The "Unveiling"

It was a bit crazy to go to the states, davka, this time of the year. It's not like there was an important family wedding or medical emergency with my father (who is in Arizona, where I also went) or someone else important. Even though it's close to two years since my mother passed away, and we hadn't yet done the unveiling, the time was best for others, so I went.

We were lots a cousins together, plus a couple of old friends. It was nice being together.

My mother is buried with her old friends from Oakland Jewish Center, Bayside, NY, which closed its doors the same summer my mother passed away.

I don't think my mother would be crazy about her location in this corner, but that's where she is now. When my father reaches his "120," he'll join her. My sister based the design of the stone on the one by our paternal grandparents' graves in the "Neshelsk" NY cemetery.

After our little ceremony, which we did without any rabbi, we went to the nearby Hunki's Pizza of Plainview, LI, NY. We shared salads, pizzas, felafel and each other's company, which was nice.

Fasting and Sleeping, Last Year I Got Up from Shiva...

Today is the 17th of Tammuz, a fast day.

The fast actually commemorates five tragic events that occurred on this date:

1. Moses broke the tablets when he saw the Jewish people worshipping theGolden Calf.

1. During the Babylonian siege of Jerusalem, the Jews were forced to cease offering the daily sacrifices due to the lack of sheep.

1. Apostomos burned the holy Torah.1

1. An idol was placed in the Holy Temple.2

1. The walls of Jerusalem were breached by the Romans, in 69 CE, after a lengthy siege. (Three weeks later, after the Jews put up a valiant struggle, the Romans destroyed the second Holy Temple on the 9th of Av.)

1. The Jerusalem Talmud maintains that this is also the date when the Babylonians breached the walls of Jerusalem on their way to destroying the first Temple. (Chabad.com)

Without the help of caffeine I find myself napping a lot on a fast day. Normally I don't nap. Caffeine can override tiredness in many people. I use coffee to perk myself up when traveling. My typing and thinking are more accurate after my morning coffee. It (plus extra water) also gets the kishkes moving preventing certain digestive disorders.

I hope that the vegetable soup simmering on the stove for breaking the fast will be satisfying but not too stimulating. I must sleep well tonight.

my mother
Shirley Spiegelman

Last year on the 17th of Tammuz I got up from shiva for my mother. Since people do come to visit on that last morning I got up and put on my "shiva outfit" with the ripped shirt. I was surprised at how many friends showed up. After we talked awhile, the time came to literally get up. The custom is for someone to walk the mourner out of the house, and so my friends and I walked out together.

Later in the day I went to a neighbor for the weekly T'hillim, Psalms. It was a suitable way for a first "social" event after sitting shiva, while still in the Shloshim thirty day mourning period.

I guess that the 17th of Tammuz will now always have a different significance for me.

After A Year's Mourning, Finally Some New Clothes

During the year of mourning for my mother I was pretty strict about not wearing any new clothes. That is the halacha, Jewish Law. There were very few exceptions these past twelve months, and when I did end up wearing something new, it wasn't new technically, since it had been worn by another. Even my work uniform shirts and a couple of scarves were worn for me by fellow employees.

The hat I wore to my son's wedding was worn first by my daughter, she also wore and then gave me a couple of sweaters I had gotten for her when I had been in the states to see my elderly father last winter. I even have some new clothes sitting unworn in my closets that I had bought before my mother passed away.

Just before the twelve months were over I bought a couple of things I needed, including this scarf. Considering our finances not buying new clothes wasn't much of a sacrifice. Even though I work in Yafiz, which is a clothing store, I'm pretty frugal. I do like to buy new scarves to update old outfits. I've gotten compliments on this glittery blue one, so it was worth it. It matches quite a few things.

But to be honest, I must say that did miss getting myself something new, especially when I finally found those sweaters after years of searching. I do try to rework old clothes to make myself new outfits, and I have many things which are quite old. Some things, like a lot of my skirts were given to me second hand. The big miracle is that they fit as if made for me, and a couple that didn't fit me last year now do, thank G-d. Actually I've been wearing them for years. My other daughter recently gave me a few tops she never wears, and they fit.

It'll be nice to finally wear those new things that have been waiting for me. And I should also look for the radio/CD player since I can now have music on in the house....

"Dislocation" and Insecurity During the Year of Mourning

One of the customs I've accepted for the year of mourning my mother is that I don't sit in my usual synagogue seat.

front and center, my official seat, best view in the shul

This custom isn't always observed on Shabbat according to some experts, but since I only go to shul synagogue on Shabbat, and neighbors who helped establish our congregation and instituted many of its customs moved around during their years of mourning parents, I, too, have taken it on. 

From what I read about the custom in The Jewish Way in Death and Mourning by Maurice Lamm, the custom is to sit further from the Bima and Ark.   Since my regular seat is as front and center overlooking them as one can get, that's pretty easy.  That is except for the fact that the Ezrat Nashim, Women's Gallery has pretty much all seats sold and is rather full on Shabbat and Jewish Holidays.  Add to that my sensitivity to drafts and hearing plus concentration problems when there's noise, you can imagine that it can get complicated.  But I think that's part of the reason for the custom.  We must get out of our "comfort zone" during the year of mourning to remind us that life in This World is temporary and just our preparation for the Next World.

Over the past couple of months, I've found a few places to sit in the back rows.  Regulars in shul are used to seeing me there.  But on Rosh Hashanah there were guests, mothers of neighbors who have known me well for years, and they asked me why I wasn't in my usual seat.  I had to tell them that I'm in sh'nat avel, year of mourning my mother.  They would have visited or called during shiva if they had known.  So, I had abbreviated "shiva, consolation discussions" with them.  The custom is to comfort the mourner of a parent for a year, so it was the right thing.

This experience is very much like I would have had if I had managed to make a pilgrimage to Har Habayit, the Temple Mount during shloshim, the first thirty days of mourning. The custom is to walk around Har Habayit to the right, except for mourners in shloshim  who walk to the left.  People are supposed to ask them why they're in the wrong direction, and then linachem, comfort them as a response.

I really feel that this custom, this minhag,  is very fitting, at least for me.