In memory of Lucas (with the author's permission)

Today is 12 weeks since Lucas died. The following was written by Rosally Saltsman about last week's Torah portion:

These are the names of the sons of Aharon, the first born was Nadav, and Avihu, Elazar and Ithamar. Nadav and Avihu died before Hashem and they had no children.
(Bamidbar 3:1-4)

It is a sad fact that too many parents outlive their children. In Israel the situation is worse because of all the soldiers who have died protecting the country and the civilian 'soldiers' who have died living in it. This probably would not have occurred to me in this context if not for the fact that I met Yehudah Wachsman, the father of Nachshon Wachsman, Hashem should avenge his blood, at a shiva. We weren't actually introduced but someone pointed out to me who he was. He and his wife Esther entered the hearts and consciousness of the nation when their son was abducted several years ago and the entire country was united in prayer for him until they received the tragic news that he had been murdered.

Those men and women who die young die without leaving children, a legacy to their parents. Many people, when confronted with parents who have tragically lost children often feel uncomfortable and don't know what to say. They are afraid to bring up the subject trying to avoid seeing the pain in the eyes of the parent. But there's a certain insensitivity inherent in that. Parents don't want to forget their children and they don't want others to forget them either, to act like they never existed. G-d mentions all four sons of Aharon in the verse. Although they have died and the circumstances of their death are additionally painful, it would have been much more difficult for Aharon had his sons not been mentioned at all, as if they had faded into obscurity.

When people die, they live on in our memories, in our hearts and in our consciousness - if we let them. It is very important that we do their memory honor by talking about them, about the importance of their lives and the significance of their sacrifice with their parents. It is a great chesed (kindness) to show parents that though their children may be gone, they are not forgotten.


From Rosally Saltsman's new book, A Portion of Kindness, now available for order.

Still in the game with prayer

For those of you who think I've given up, I'm still in the game with prayer.

I found this quote sent by my colleague Elliot Skiddell:

"Prayer cannot rebuild a broken bridge or make a desert bloom, but prayer can rebuild a broken will or water an arid soul.”

According to the source he found, it's from Bahya ibn Pakuda though he did find it also attributed, variously, to Gates of Prayer and also to Heschel.

In memory of Lucas and before getting permission

I told my friend I'd get her permission to write this but it's too late to call her. I hope she'll tell me if she wants me to take it down.

Tomorrow is 11 weeks since Lucas died. I think I'm going over the edge. Please pray for his parents, his sister, his grandparents, aunts, uncles and his caregiver.

I was looking for a 10th person for a minyan for mincha and when I asked my friend and colleague who happened to be passing through the building she was reluctant and said she'd do it if I raised some money for a project near and dear to our hearts.

I told her to come do it so we could resurrect Lucas and she said I was giving her a guilt trip.

I told my students that she was accusing me of a guilt trip I had not meant in any way. I told them I was just commenting on the total worthlessness of our prayers to do what I want done in the world right now.

After we got a minyan without her, she left and I sobbed my way through the first part of mincha. When I got back to my office I wrote her an email entitled "What I meant"

And I told her that what I meant is that I feel like I get up every day and stand at the edge of an abyss and that nowhere do I feel that more than when I am trying to pray. And in addition to just trying to make things work at my job, I was asking her to stand with me there for five minutes.

So she called and asked me for coffee and she said, in that beautiful understated way the British have, "I read your email and it sounds like you could use some chocolate cake."

I don't want chocolate cake. I want the world to go back to the way it was on March 7. And according to Jewish tradition (Mishnah Brachot, last chapter, hatzoek lesheavar), that's not even something I can pray for.

In memory of Lucas

Yesterday was 10 weeks since Lucas died.

It's really not a lot of time.

I have run out of poems to post but I hope to find more.

Please keep his parents and his sister, his grandparents, his aunts and uncles, his caregiver and all who loved him in your prayers.

Why I made Mushroom Moussaka

Yesterday I made an infamous recipe from the Moosewood Cookbook, one I had never tried since my beloved housemate Camille (known then as Jennifer) made it for us in 1981 or 1982, our last year of college.

It's easy to see from looking at the page in the cookbook why this recipe lived in infamy and why I had to make it yesterday. Right at the top of the page it says: preparation time - 2 hours. Right away, you know something is wrong here. I don't ever have two hours to make one item of food. And actually, no one really has two hours to make dinner.

Then you read the recipe itself - it has three parts, each of which needs to be cooked, and then they have to be assembled and recooked. That's too many parts. That's too much cooking.

Then here's the kicker - the recipe calls for 1/4 cup of red wine. Yup, just 1/4 cup. So if you are anything like me you are thinking - what happened to the rest of the bottle?

And there in a nutshell is why I haven't made the recipe for nearly 30 years. I had too many bad memories of how cranky I got as my dear friend worked hard to assemble this for dinner while she or we took care of the rest of the wine. I think we ate around 10 pm that night.

My life now is not anything like it was then.

But 30 years later, and minus the wine, I gave it a try yesterday. I did it for the same reason I've been writing about recipes since the kids were little- I used to say it was to act like I had a life, but I realize I can focus that more. It's to act like I have independence. Like I do one thing for myself only and not for anyone else. I mean, when you see the ingredients below, you KNOW my kids aren't eating it, and Alen's been sick in bed for 3 days, although she emerged tonight and said it was pretty good. Thanks for this go to Michal Shusman, who watched Sasha yesterday afternoon, and to Rachel and Ofer Shabbat Beit Halachmi, who hosted Gabi.

So here's my adaptation of Mollie Katzen's mushroom moussaka. The measurements are Israeli.

1 eggplant (Mollie said three, but we don't like it that much)
2 boxes of mushrooms
1 large chopped onion
2 minced garlic cloves
1 container tomato paste (Israeli containers are smaller, so I added 2 tablespoons prepared spaghetti sauce)
1/4 cup chopped fresh parsley
oregano (Mollie said basil too, but I didn't have any)
cinamon - a dash
salt & pepper
1/4 cup grape juice
1/2 cup bread crumbs
1/2 cup grated cheddar plus more for the top
1 tablespoon butter
1 tablespoon flour
about 1.5 cups milk
2 eggs and one egg yolk (Mollie said 4 eggs plus 4 egg yolks - I thought that was extreme)

Slice the eggplant and bake about 15 minutes on an oiled tray in the oven
Fry the mushrooms, onions and garlic in butter in a big pot
Add the tomato paste, parsley, grape juice (or wine), oregano, basil, cinamon, salt and pepper. Cook until liquid is mostly gone, then add bread crumbs and cheese and 2 beaten eggs and remove from heat.
Melt the butter, make a roux with the flour, and add the milk. Thicken to a white sauce, then beat in the egg yolk.
Make the Moussaka with a layer of eggplant, a layer of mushroom sauce, more eggplant, more mushroom sauce, and then the white sauce on top, with a little grated cheese on top of that. Cook at 350 for 35 minutes covered and 15 minutes uncovered.

There was a lot to love about our home at 34 Haverford Road. Thanks to my friends from those years. I'm glad I tried again with the Mushroom Moussaka.

Yom Hazikaron - Memorial Day and Mothers' Day

Today was Mothers' Day and two months to the day that Lucas died.

Tonight began Memorial Day - Yom HaZikaron - in Israel. Gabi wanted to go down to the town ceremony at the school and I'm really glad we did. After a few speakers, songs, poems, etc., Kay Susan Wilson was introduced. I was very surprised and impressed. I don't think I wrote about it here on the blog, though I meant to, but in December two women walking in the woods quite near our house (about 5 kilometers away) were attacked. One of them, Kristine Luken, was killed. Kay Wilson was stabbed 15 times but first pretended to be dead and later found the strength to walk out of the woods and get help. 2-3 months after the incident, it was revealed that police had made arrests shortly after and arrested a group of Palestinians from nearby towns in the West Bank who were linked to another murder, a rape, and other crimes.

I was very impressed that such a short time later, Kay Wilson was able to address the approximately 2000 people gathered in Tzur Hadassah tonight. She is a native English speaker but spoke very well in Hebrew. She started out talking about what a beautiful day it was as they were walking near here in the Jerusalem Forest. She went on to talk about Kristine, how she loved Israel and supported the Jewish people although she was Christian, and how she was sometimes rejected for her beliefs. She talked about how although they were held captive that day, she believes that their captors were already imprisoned for years by their own hate. She talked about how difficult things are for her now - how every moment is full of pain and suffering, but how every moment is also infinitely precious. She quoted Sherry Mandell (mother of Koby Mandell who was murdered in 2000) about how her heart is broken and will never be the same, but how her new heart is open and enables her to feel greater compassion.

Kay said that she will never understand why Kristine was killed and why she survived, but that she knows that Kristine would want her to go on living life as fully as possible.

I had heard (on the radio) that Kay was a woman of great courage, and her speaking tonight showed that. She mentioned she recently took a hike to reclaim the woods in which they were attacked, and her speaking in Tzur Hadassah tonight also showed her great strength and courage.

I had been thinking of posting this song in memory of Lucas, and I also thought of it tonight:

Farther Along
(these are the lyrics found on the Dolly Parton lyrics site - I couldn't find her singing it but found these unusual very young girls singing it, and this Glen Campbell/Larry Gatlin version. Both are quite Christian - the lyrics below are a bit more parve.)

Tempted and tried, we're oft made to wonder
Why it should be thus all day long
While there are others living about us
Never molested though in the wrong

When death has come and taken our loved ones
It leaves our home so lonely and drear
Then do we wonder why others prosper
Living so wicked year after year

Farther along we'll know all about it
Farther along we'll understand why
Cheer up my brother, live in the sunshine
We'll understand it all, by and by

Faithful 'til death, said our loving Master
A few more days to labor and wait
Toils of the road will then seem as nothing
As we sweep through the beautiful gates

In memory - Yom HaShoah and Lucas

Tomorrow is eight weeks since Lucas died.

It's been Yom HaShoah - Holocaust Remembrance Day - here and my kids know too much. Sasha came home talking about "Nazim". He called Gabi one. We tried to explain you don't do that. Later tonight Gabi told him that if he ever met a Nazi, they would be a million times meaner than she is. He said that a Nazi would not be mean to him because he would dress in brown and the Nazi would think he was his child. Gabi said that would not work. I said we'll talk about this more when you are older.

Help.

In the class I was teaching before Lucas died, we were talking a lot about a line from Psalm 115, "the dead don't (won't?) praise God." We read a paper about two poems that reference this verse - you can find the paper here. I've written out the more recent of the two poems - it's a bit less stark.

XI. (Dead Men's Praise) from Scattered Psalms by Jacqueline Osherow

Yakov Glatstein already
used this verse in a poem,
translated, in that book,
(Radiant Jews, 1946)
Dead Men Don't Praise God

and you can see how, then,
it must have seemed that, for years,
this verse had festered in its psalm
waiting to reveal its acrid heart.

I don't blame him if he thought
all praise had ended

but I wonder if it's heartless
after only fifty years
to think – again – the praise has just begun:

the dead don't praise God
or the ones who go down to silence,
but we'll praise God
from now on forever
hallelujah –

I'm not suggesting that we think about it:
just sing it, during Hallel
at synagogue, the next new moon

and get in on a little
of its stubborn bravado
its delirious proof
of itself – hallelujah -


The Glatstein poem is about how "We received the Torah on Sinai / and in Lublin we gave it back."

That notion of a broken covenant seems very real to me. I was talking last week about how I thought Hashem and I had a deal - I buckle my kids in the car and they are safe - and how I can't accept that Lucas died, buckled in his car seat.

Thanks to all who acknowledge my struggles with faith these days while maintaining theirs.