Showing posts with label lucas. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lucas. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 16, 2015

What Happened - About Lucas, parental fear, and Tzuk Eitan



הייתי השבוע בדיון על צוק איתן ועל פחד הורים וישבתי שם ופשוט רעדתי.  הצלחתי להגיד כמה מילים והרגשתי איזה הקלה קלה אבל הרעד המשיך ובסוף רציתי רק להכנס למיטה ולבכות.  בדרך הביתה חשבתי על התמונה הזאת של ילדה מתכרבלת במיטה וגיליתי שזה משהו שאני זוכרת מחברה שלי, ג'יל, שאחרי הלוויה של אביה היתה במיטתה, בוכה.  הייתי בת 10 בערך.  הפגישה הראשונה שלי עם מוות. 

משום מה, הבת שלי גבי משורשת בעולם הזה ואני לא דואגת לה.  פעם, כשהיא היתה בת שנתיים היא רצה אל הכביש.  אני עדיין מקבלת צמרמורת כשאני חושבת על זה.  אבל כעיקרון היא נזהרת, שומרת על עצמה, מתקשרת.
 

הבן שלי הוא משהו אחר.  מתקופת ההריון לא הייתי בטוחה בקיומו.  הייתי בשמירת הריון ומישהי אמרה לי לנצל את הזמן להתחבר עם התינוק שלי והרגשתי "איך?"  עד הרגע שהוא יצא לא האמנתי.  ואז הכל התחיל – האי נוחות שלו בעולם, האסטמה ודלקת הריאות בשנה ראשונה ובהמשך.  מתוך 5 שנים הראשונות 4 פעמים דלקת ריאות.  הלילות עם אסטמה ובמקביל הסיפורים של גיסי וגיסתי על לוקס והאסטמה שלו.  הם היו באותו גיל.  היו לנו משפחות מקבילות, לכל אחת בת ובן, באותם גילאים.
ואז הנורא מכל – הטלפון ב11:30 בלילה.  כשבשרו לנו את הבשורה על לוקס, שמת בתאונת דרכים בגיל 4 וחצי, כל החדר התמלא באור.  לא אשכח – אולי גם זאת סיבה שרציתי לחזור לחדר שלי השבוע.  אני יודעת שיש מעבר מן החדר שלי לטרינידד – שם אנחנו נמצאים עם קרובינו.  ללוויה של לוקס אלן נסעה לבד וגם למות של אביה לא נסעתי – אני נשארתי במיטתי מחוברת איכשהו דרך המעבר הזה.
לוקס היה ילד עטוף בצמר גפן – לא יצא מהבית בלי ליווי מבוגר.  המטפלת שלו חיכתה לו מחוץ לגן כל השעות המעטות שהוא בילה שם.  אמר לאבא שלו זמן קצר לפני מותו שהוא לא צריך ללמוד לקרוא כי הוא לא עולה לבית הספר.
לעומתו סשה היה ילד של סכנות – טיפס על חומות, חיפש גירוי סנסורי בכל מקום.  קבל תלת אופן והתאמן במרפסת על נפילות ממנו – איזה עשרים פעמים נפל, בכה ב"כאלו", הקים את עצמו לעשות שוב.  
אחרי מותו של לוקס שאלתי את עצמי איך?  איך אני אגדל אותו?  אם לוקס ששמרו עליו כל כך מת, איך אשמור על סשה?  אין לי סיכוי להצליח.
כשלוקס נהרג סשה בא מגן ואמר – מצאנו את הנשמה של לוקס בחצר.  זה היה אדום.  נחפור ונוציא אותו ונחזיר לו.  
זה פחד הורים.  חשבתי שהאמנתי בה' אבל גיליתי שהאמנתי בסנטה קלאוס.  חשבתי שיש עסקה ביננו לבין היקום – שמים תמיד את הילד בכסא בטיחות ושום דבר לא יקרה לו.  ה' הפר את עסקתנו.  
מאז מותו קשה לי בכל ברית מילה – כשאומרים "קיים את הילד הזה לאביו ולאמו" אני צועקת בפנים.  מה?  גיסי וגיסתי לא היו ראויים לזה?  באיזה תמימות עומדים ההורים בטקס.  כששרים "המלאך הגואל אותי" אני מתמלא בדמעות.  איפה היה המלאך?
צוק איתן – בזמן שהתחילה נפילת הטילים, חמי נכנס לבית חולים וגילו ולא גילו את המחלה שהרג אותו בעוד 4 חודשים.  בזמן שהתחילה המבצע אלן העבירה בקושי קייטנה ממקום פתוח לבית ספר סגור ואז יצאה לחופשה מתוכננת לארה"ב עם הילדים והשאירה אותי כאן, לעבוד.  חלמתי על הזמן הזה וציפיתי להרגשה של חופש.  קבלתי פחד, בדידות, ודאגות.  לנסוע דרך חוסן או לנסוע דרך ההרים ב"שטח פתוח" שם לא יורטים בטילים אם שוגרים.  והיו לנו 150 סטודנטים שבאו מחו"ל, לא בטלו, ואני נותנת תדרוכים איך להגיע למרחב מוגן .  מלמדת תהילים ואומרת שאני מחפשת אמונה שימושית – אמונה שתחזיק ותחזק אותי בימים אלה.  
ויוצאת לחופשה, וחוזרת, ואלן בטרינדד עם אביה, והיא חוזרת, החגים, אני פתאום חולה, אז עוד טיסה בבהלה ואלן יושבת ליד אביה ביום האחרון שלו.  ואני מקבלת בשורות במיטה ומתקשרת דרך המעבר הרוחני הזה להיות לצידו ולהיות עדה למעברו.  ומחליטה לשנות את חיי. 

Friday, May 10, 2013

Standing on earth


I have been thinking for some time about coming clean and writing what I am really thinking about on this blog.  It’s a hard thing to do because I think that some people, including people I love very much, think I am crazy.  On the other hand, I also think that my experience might help some people. 

When Lucas died two years ago in a car accident I went into a profound spiritual crisis.  After six months, my best friend told me that I had to do something.  Not wanting to go speak to a therapist, I chose to go to a cranial-sacral healer.

During the healing, I understood many things.  I understood that the car accident that killed Lucas also shocked me out of balance on earth.  The healer worked on grounding me and I understood that I had somehow, since the accident, been not grounded.

I understood that some part of me was jealous that Lucas got to leave the earth.  I understood that I knew Lucas and Sasha from a previous life, a life I had seen before.  I understood that Lucas was a very high soul, who had been a monk in that life. 

I understood what I have known for many years, that I was ambivalent (that’s too soft a word) about being alive.  Many years ago I came to understand my traumatic birth (I had the cord around me), as not wanting to be born.  I connected this with the fact that I died in the Holocaust in my last life.  I have seen these things since 1988.

After this healing, I became motivated to want to be here.  I understood that Lucas had left the earth and that I was still here.  I wanted to work on wanting to be here.

I went to another healer I see who understands these things.  We spent some sessions on this issue of “wanting to be here”.  While I was working on this, on January 9, 2012, I said, “I have to stop taking responsibility for other souls.”  I have to claim my journey.  Other people, even my own children, have their own journeys.  That was on Monday.

I was sick at the time.  I went home and came down with pneumonia.  On Thursday night I was lying in bed and I had a feeling.  I was about to go on a trip to California.  I had a feeling that an important message about my trip was about to arrive by email.  I kept getting up to check.  Around 10:30 pm a message came from the mother of a friend of mine.  I had been meant to see him, for the first time after 30 years, during my upcoming trip.  The message was that he had killed himself.  On January 9.

In the following days, I was sick in bed and thought only of him.  I began to see him in our last life, in the Holocaust.  He was my cousin.  I began to understand his story – how hard that life was for him and how that was behind much of what happened to him in this life.  How he was also someone like me who lived somehow not fully here.  How he had to leave.

What I see now, in these days when his image and life are coming back to me again, is how in this life we re-create scenes from past lives to re-do them.  Do-over. 

When Lucas died in March 2011, I was teaching Hallel in an online course.  In Psalm 115 it says, “Lo hametim yehallelu Y-h – The dead will not praise G-d”.    We had studied and discussed that phrase in class just before Lucas died.    A student of mine pointed us to a paper, which analyzed Yakov Gladstein’s 1946 poem, Dead Men’s Praise.  Since Lucas died, I have held that poem, taught that poem, and the words of Hallel together. 

In the poem, Gladstein describes the deaths at Maidenek as a reverse Sinai image – “we received the Torah at Sinai and at Lublin we gave it back.”  The central image in the poem is a Jewish child. 

This year another layer that has been added for me has to do with how we stand on the earth.  What does it mean to be “strangers and sojourners with G-d” on a land that belongs to G-d.  David said, “I am a stranger here on earth like my fathers before me, our lives are like a shadow and there is no hope.”   No hope, that is, of holding on to the things that we hold precious.  The word “shmor” – guard or take care of – keeps coming back in our songs and ceremonies.  I know that this is not promised in any literal way.  I believe that G-d is keeping Lucas’s soul – and my soul, and Sasha’s soul, and Gabi’s soul, and Alen’s soul.  But life on this earth is not guaranteed to us and nor is being able to protect our children.

Today, standing at Sasha’s kabbalat sefer Torah ceremony all this was with me – Sasha, Lucas, my friend Alan.  What it means to receive it all and to be standing here, on earth, in this moment, with my feet on the ground. 

Thursday, February 7, 2013

Words of Comfort

Five years ago, eight young men left this world in a tragic shooting at the Merkaz HaRav Yeshiva.  They were shot as they studied in the library/Beit Midrash.  One of these boys was the son of a friend.

Two years ago, I joined my friend and her family at the gravesite to commemorate his yahrzeit.  It was a Sunday afternoon.  Two nights later, we received the call that our four and a half year old nephew Lucas had been killed in a car accident.

Last night, I went to be with my friend at the memorial for the boys who died on Rosh Hodesh Adar at Merkaz HaRav.  I want to share some of what I heard there in hopes that it will bring comfort at this season to Eddie and Sophie and all who loved Lucas, to Mimi and Paul whose son Ben died last week, and to anyone reading it. 

My apologies in advance for any lapses in my memory or misunderstandings.  The hour was late, the Hebrew was rapid and often accented.

Two speakers last night impressed me deeply.  One was an elderly great man, I do not know his name, he is a Rosh Yeshiva, not from Merkaz Harav.  He spoke in accented Hebrew, clearly Yiddish was his first language.  He was the only speaker who brought books with him to read from and he read from the Gemara with Yiddish accented Aramaic, translating some parts into less accented Hebrew.  American English was also in the background of his accent.  He got my attention when he mentioned, in an aside, that he was born in Shanghai. 

From Wikipedia:

Another wave of 18,000 Jews from Germany, Austria, and Poland immigrated to Shanghai in the late 1930s and the early 1940s.[30] Shanghai at the time was an open city and did not have restrictions on immigration, and some Chinese diplomats such as Ho Feng Shan issued "protective" passports. In 1943, the occupying Japanese army required these 18,000 Jews, formally known as "stateless refugees," to relocate to an area of 0.75 square miles (1.9 km2) in Shanghai's Hongkew district (today known as Hongkou District) where many lived in group homes called "Heime".[31] The total number of Jews entering Shanghai during this period equaled the number of Jews fleeing to Australia, Canada, India, New Zealand and South Africa combined. Many of the Jews in China later moved to found modern Israel.
Shanghai was an important safe-haven for Jewish refugees during the Holocaust, since it was one of the few places in the world where one didn't need a visa. However, it was not easy to get there. The Japanese, who controlled the city, preferred in effect to look the other way. Some corrupt officials however, also exploited the plight of the Jews. By 1941 nearly 20,000 European Jews had found shelter there.

This rabbi seemed to me as if he carried the history of the Jewish people in the 20th century in his body.  He spoke of Rav Kook.  He told stories that I did not understand.

And he taught a Gemara from Yevamot, the point of which was to say that a yahrzeit, the anniversary of a death, is considered like one of the shalosh regalim (three pilgrimage festivals).  He went on to talk about the importance of walking at the regalim, how even one who arrived in a cart had to get down the last way to the Temple.  How walking allows us to slowly come in to something.  And how for anniversaries, Yahrzeits, as my friend calls them "angelversaries", we need to enter slowly, we are entering a holy time.

I regret that because of my difficulties in understanding, I did not retain more of what this great man said.  He did speak several times about why he was there, and how important it is to bear the burdens of others and to be with those who are in sorrow.

The other speaker who impressed me greatly was the Be'er Sheva Chief Rabbi Yehuda Deri (Aryeh Deri's brother).  He had an amazing presence, when he spoke I saw lots of energy and light around him, and I was quite a distance away.  (Davka, the shul, Beit Knesset Yeshurun, felt very hamish, close and accessible and though we were of course on the balcony, I did not feel distant from the speakers or musicians.)

He started out by speaking about Nadav and Avihu, the two sons of Aaron who were killed suddenly on the day the Mishkan (tabernacle) was dedicated.  He talked about the contrast - the happy celebration and the deaths, of course referring to the fact that the terror attack at Merkaz HaRav happened on the day that we were celebrating Rosh Hodesh Adar, when we increase joy.  (And Lucas died on carnival.)  He said that everyone cries when the portion of Aharei Mot (After the deaths - Leviticus 16) is read on Yom Kippur and quoted a commentary saying that is why we read it on Yom Kippur, because tears open the gates of heaven.

The middle of his talk was about Tzedakah (giving charity) and Gemilut Hasadim (acts of kindness).  He quoted a teaching that when the merit of our fathers and the merit of our mothers fails us, doing acts of kindness will never fail us, interpreting a beautiful verse from Isaiah:

Isaiah 54:10:  For the mountains (the merit of the fathers) may move, and the hills (the merit of the mothers) be shaken, my lovingkindness/loyalty (hasdi) will never move from you.... 

He had two other messages.  One was based on a verse, all Israel wept after them.  He said that the loss was not the loss of the families alone, but the loss of all Israel and that each of us there had to feel the loss.  I think this is a teaching for whenever a child dies.

His last message he explicitly said was a message of comfort.  It was based on a Talmud passage in Taanit 9 where it is written that Israel had three great parnasim (caretakers of the community in the broadest sense) - Moses, Aaron and Miriam - and that each brought a gift - by the merit of Moses, Manna, by the merit of Aaron, the clouds of glory, by the merit of Miriam, the well.  He then said that the Gemara (?) says that these gifts all left Israel in one month, but that this is a problem because we know that Moses died on the 7th of Adar, Miriam in Nisan, and Aaron on Rosh Hodesh Av.  Then he went on to say that what it means is that after Miriam and Aaron died, the well and the clouds did not depart, because Moses, their brother, carried on their work in the world.  I took him to mean that as long as ones family are alive, as long as a sibling is alive, a child is not gone from this world.  He also explicitly said that as long as the Yeshiva studies Torah and carries on the work of these boys, they have not departed.

May these words be of comfort to all who mourn this month and at all times, and may we find away to "hafach mispedi lemachol li" to turn weeping into dancing.  At the end of the memorial, there was beautiful music and dancing. 



 Avraham David Moses, ztz"l

Friday, August 24, 2012

Grief again?

I got up in the morning and opened facebook.  Sasha saw that Auntie Lisa had a photo of Lucas, and he asked to see it, and then the next time I saw he had a huge page of photos of Lucas up on the screen.  I'm thinking, this really sucks.  First thing in the morning my 6 year old is looking at photos of his cousin who died.  Why am I waking up in this kind of world?

We went to visit the kids other cousins.  I somehow made my way through watching Sasha so want the approval and attention of his 13 year old boy cousin.  How many 13 year olds want to play with 6 year olds?  The whole interaction made me want to cry.  I didn't figure out why I felt so strongly until we were on our way out the door and Gabi said something about "I have four and a half cousins." Her aunt tried to say she has five cousins, but it's not really true, because one of them isn't alive.

I've tried to soften my words here.

Then I read on Lisa's facebook that she just went to church for the first time since Lucas's funeral, which was almost 18 months ago.  That said it all.

Tuesday, June 19, 2012

Fresh Grief

A wave of events has brought fresh grief about Lucas.

It started innocuously (sp?) - almost in a way I felt good about.  In the first of three visits with friends from overseas and their kids, we talked and laughed and the kids played and then almost as they were getting ready to go, we realized they did not know.  They had not seen us in a year and a half, aren't facebook friends, don't interact with us daily.  At first there was an almost giddy shock - here we had spent two hours together without mentioning it - how life had changed in a year - one year ago it would have been the very first thing we mentioned.

But then the grief came back.  Suddenly the photos jumped off the shelves - at least figuratively - and I saw Lucas everywhere.

A few days later Sasha had a really scary asthma attack.  The next day I felt like I had post traumatic stress - it still has not completely dissipated.  That came a couple of days after Gabi and I thought we had lost him in the woods (he was playing with friends in a safe place).  It was just a few minutes, but enough to shake me up and to really scare Gabi.  At night she told me, "I'm afraid I'm going to lose him, afraid that poof, he just won't be here." 

Then we made plans to see some more friends we have not seen since before Gabi was born, with their kids.  So I tried to pre-empt it by telling them on the phone.  But she was horrified and I had forgotten how to tell.  Last year I knew to start, "we had a tragedy in our family" and then to tell.  I had forgotten how to do that.

Then yesterday Gabi and I went with an old friend of mine to see other old friends of ours and their kids.  I felt so heavy on the way there and on the way back.  I had a lovely time.  It was right after the final party for Sasha of kindergarten.  I could be in all this when it was happening, but before and after I felt like I was carrying a weight.

It's of course a joy to watch other people's kids grow - a marvel, one of the greatest miracles in life.  Our kids also are growing so incredibly - easy to see why these are called the wonder years.

This is not promised to us, it is not "muvan me'elav".

So we're starting another summer, I'm about to welcome another wave of students, Alen is somewhat back on her feet after breaking her leg but still not driving, I'm very tired, I'm still parenting a testosterone enhanced version of myself, still feeling so strongly the fear that I call the dark underbelly of parenting.  Taking lots of joy in their changes and trying each day to hold it all lightly and be grateful.

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Thoughts after one year - in memory of Lucas

Today is Ash Wednesday. Yesterday was Mardi Gras - Carnival Tuesday - the day that Lucas died.

I can't believe it has been one year. My heart is with Sophie, Eddie & Kayleigh and all the family.

Thank you to everyone who has helped Alen & me and our kids during this year.

Two books I read this summer and fall helped a lot. One was "Will the Circle Be Unbroken" - a book of interviews by Studs Terkel. It's lots of different perspectives on death, loss and faith. The other is "Does the Soul Survive" by Rabbi Elie Spitz.

I spent almost two weeks in California at the end of January and beginning of February. I had not been there in 30 years. Everywhere I went I was welcomed by people I know from all parts of my life - from grade school, from my college days, from my first year in Israel in '83-'84, from rabbinical school and from these past 11 years in Israel. I also met new people - including my 3rd cousin and 3rd cousin once removed and his wife.

My cousin Andrew the genealogist gave me a gift - the marriage certificate of my great uncle Jack. It turns out my uncle Jack married his wife Edith exactly two weeks after my grandparents got married, on Sunday, April 28, 1929. (Or maybe it's the 23rd - the date is hard to read - the 23rd would make more sense if it was a civil wedding at an office not open on Sundays.)

My grandparents were married April 14, 1929 in Sharon, MA. In California I saw several people who are connected to Sharon and decided that all roads lead to Sharon - the place where my grandparents married and are buried.

I also saw and felt many other things connected to the past - to the Holocaust especially.

I came back feeling that if I can go 9000 miles away to a place where I have not been for 30 years and experience so many amazing connections from so many times, then there really is no time and no space and no distance.

When Lucas died the song that kept coming to me was the Sweet Honey In the Rock song, Listen More Often. You can find it on this blog if you search the Lucas tag - it's the first song I posted when he died. I'll probably make a new tag for loss as well. The song says "The dead are not under the earth" and it's something I believe more every day.

Sending lots of love to everyone who reads this.

Gail

Monday, September 12, 2011

It'll be a New Year

I had one of those innocuous conversations today. With someone I really like, someone I was happy to be talking to, someone I had not seen in awhile.

She asked how I am, how the family is, in a way that indicated she cared and wanted to hear. So I said it's been a hard time, the past 6 months since Lucas died, that we saw his family, that it was hard.

And she said, "it'll be a New Year". Meaning well, it's a nice thing to say.

I didn't say a lot of what's on my mind - how I don't want to go to Rosh Hashanah or Yom Kippur services, how in the New Year Lucas will still be dead, how the world will still be a place where a 4 year old boy can suddenly leave, where a family can be left with grief.

Yesterday, September 11, I did not think much about Lucas. I thought about all the people who died that day 10 years ago.

But today, September 12, I'm back to where I was. Not looking forward to a New Year, not knowing what it means to make a fresh start when a piece is, and will always be, missing.

And knowing that this is what people my age, which is not that old, and some younger, do all the time. That figuring out how to live with loss is basically figuring out how to live. I don't have it figured out yet.

Many years ago someone told me a year is important because after a year, you've gone through all the seasons. I have no doubt next high holidays will be easier. For now I'm dreading the thought of trying to be present as we read, "who shall live and who shall die". Alen's been listening to a Leonard Cohen version of it in the car - I don't know how. I changed the disc when it came on.

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Painful Driving Questions

Tomorrow is six months since Lucas died. Last night, I looked at 192 photos of him that his aunt Lisa has on her facebook. The whole time feeling how I still can't comprehend this.

On the way home from work today, Sasha was with me thanks to strep throat. A coworker and friend was in the car with us. Sasha started talking about places he wants to go for his birthday and mentioned that Alen said we could go to Trinidad. I wonder if she did.

So I asked him why he wants to go to Trinidad and he said he wants to see Lucas's toys, and that he wants to see Lucas. So I said you know if we go there, we won't see Lucas, he's dead. Then Sasha started asking about if he was buried. Then he asked if he was in one of those things Dracula goes in (because we have a book with a picture of a vampire in a coffin, and it's the only picture of a coffin Sasha has ever seen). So I tried to explain what cremation is, in Hebrew, and that when someone is cremated there are ashes, but Sasha didn't really know what ashes are. Then Sasha said it was too bad because he wanted to see Lucas, and I explained that we can't see people who are dead and that Lucas's body isn't here anymore and we can't see his spirit.

My friend didn't say anything.

Later in the ride I told Sasha I wanted to tell him something about my friend's father (that he produces musicals) and Sasha said, "what, is he dead?"

Then we talked about being grandparents, and people dying when they are grandparents or great grandparents.

The way it is supposed to be.

And I have a whole new pile of students, wonderful students, who don't know, who didn't hear, and still friends who for one reason or another we have not told, and time goes on. And I still feel that I have no idea what I believe anymore, that the G-d I believed in before this happened was more like Santa Claus, that I have no idea who the G-d is that I believe in anymore, and that the abyss remains very close. That am dreading the long prayers of the high holidays and the unetaneh tokef. And that my heart is with our family in Trinidad.

Monday, May 30, 2011

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.

Monday, May 23, 2011

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.

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

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.

Sunday, May 8, 2011

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

Monday, May 2, 2011

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.

Monday, April 25, 2011

In memory of Lucas - 7 weeks

Tomorrow is 7 weeks since Lucas died in a car accident. We're now counting 7 weeks from Passover to Shavuot. It seems like a long time and it seems like a minute.

I'm doing the suiting up and showing up thing at synagogue while not wanting to be there. I went by myself this morning without kids. After about 15 minutes or so of trying to connect or pray I realize how mad I am at G-d.

I read a book about grief - I'll post the name at some point, it's by Earl Grollman. He talks about something like trying to re-integrate life around a death - how nothing makes sense and then slowly we re-integrate or something like that.

I watched the kids on the beach this weekend and again just had this sense of unreality - how can someone be missing from our family? How can Sasha turn 5 and Lucas not?

This is one of the poems we read at the memorial last week:

Dirge without Music by Edna St. Vincent Millay

I am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the hard ground.
So it is, and so it will be, for so it has been, time out of mind:
Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely. Crowned
With lilies and with laurel they go; but I am not resigned.

Lovers and thinkers, into the earth with you.
Be one with the dull, the indiscriminate dust.
A fragment of what you felt, of what you knew,
A formula, a phrase remains, --- but the best is lost.

The answers quick & keen, the honest look, the laughter, the love,
They are gone. They have gone to feed the roses.
Elegant and curled is the blossom. Fragrant is the blossom. I know.
But I do not approve.
More precious was the light in your eyes than all the roses in the world.

Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave
Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind;
Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave.
I know. But I do not approve. And I am not resigned.

Sunday, April 17, 2011

In memory of Lucas

We had a memorial for Lucas here today and planted a tree - his family is also making a memorial for him today on the 40th day since he died.

Gabi read this poem:

Hold on to what is good
Even if it is
A handful of earth.
Hold on to what you believe
Even if it is
A tree which stands by itself.
Hold on to what you must do
Even if it is
a long way from here.
Hold on to life even when
it is easier letting go.
Hold on to my hand even when
I have gone away from you.

By Nancy Wood.

She did a very good job reading it. Afterwards (or it could have been before), she went into the synagogue because she was crying and did not want people to see her cry. She'll be a good Israeli.

I spoke in Hebrew about how hard it is to be so far from family especially at this time, and about how planting a tree also honors the memory of Lucas's grandmother, Alen's mother Sylvia, who worked so much to preserve trees and wildlife. Alen spoke in English about Lucas and what he loved. We planted a carob tree.

Our thoughts and prayers are with Eddie, Sophie, Kayleigh, Vlad, Jonny, Lynette, Lisa, Spencer, Cindy, and all those who loved Lucas.

Monday, April 11, 2011

In memory of Lucas

I've been thinking of this song a lot - especially the part about "I wake up in the morning and I wonder". The song is about lost love, but much of it fits with any loss, when the world keeps moving around us and we aren't there somehow.

Please keep our family in your prayers over Easter and Passover - they are having a memorial there and we are having a memorial here on Sunday, April 17. We'll be planting a tree in memory of Lucas.

I've linked the title to a video of Karen Carpenter singing the song. This is the first version of the song I ever heard, when I was about 11 years old.

The End Of The World

Why does the sun go on shining?
Why does the sea rush to the shore?
Don't they know it's the end of the world
'Cause you don't love me anymore?

Why do the birds go on singing?
Why do the stars glow above?
Don't they know it's the end of the world?
It ended when I lost your love

I wake up in the morning and I wonder
Why everything's the same as it was
I can't understand, no I can't understand
How life goes on the way it does

Why does my heart go on beating?
Why do these eyes of mine cry?
Don't they know it's the end of the world?
It ended when you said goodbye

Monday, April 4, 2011

In memory of Lucas

I thought of this poem. Today is four weeks since Lucas died. I don't mean to say anyone shouldn't grieve - G-d knows we are all grieving. But this is a poem that has always spoken to me.

Unmarked Boxes

Don't grieve. Anything you lose comes round
in another form. The child weaned from mother's milk
now drinks wine and honey mixed.

God's joy moves from unmarked box to unmarked box,
from cell to cell. As rainwater, down into flower bed.
As roses, up from ground.
Now it looks like a plate of rice and fish,
now a cliff covered with vines,
now a horse being saddled.
It hides within these,
till one day it cracks them open

Part of the self leaves the body when we sleep
and changes shape. You might say, "Last night
I was a cypress tree, a small bed of tulips,
a field of grapevines." Then the phantasm goes away.
You're back in the room.
I don't want to make any one fearful.
Hear what's behind what I say.

Tatatumtum tatum tatadum.
There's the light gold of wheat in the sun
and the gold of bread made from that wheat.
I have neither. I'm only talking about them,

as a town in the desert looks up
at stars on a clear night.


— Jalal al-Din Rumi (1207-1273)
"Unmarked Boxes"
translated by Coleman Barks,
The Essential Rumi (1995), p. 272

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Top 10 prayers I'm having a hard time with

So let's see if I can get to 10 here:

1. Shehehiyanu - I can't thank G-d for allowing me to reach this occasion. I so want to turn back the clock. When my best friend from high school whom I had not seen in 10 years showed up last weekend I had to say it, but I choked on it too.

2. Birkat Gomel - I don't need to say this but I can't stand listening to others saying it right now. How come G-d didn't save Lucas?

3. Mevarech HaShanim - this year has so gone down the tubes, how can I ask Hashem to bless it.

4. Mehayeh Metim - I noticed this is kind of a biggie in our tradition, and it's so familiar it rolls off my tongue, and Sasha seems to have total faith in Techiyat Hametim. I'm not sure what I think. I hope I won't be kicked out of the RRA for mentioning that I actually say the traditional version.

5. Ahavat Olam - G-d's love isn't so present for me right now.

6. Anything that uses the word Hesed - not feeling it from G-d so so much. We've seen a lot of it from people.

7. Thy will not mine be done - if you know me well, you know I say that quite a bit. I'm choking on it these days.

8. Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change - also well known by rote but not easy to swallow right now.

9. Alenu leShabeach - not so into praising Hashem right now.

10. Tov Hashem la col ve rachamav al col ma'asav - G-d is good to all and his mercy extends to all he does - Ditto on all of the above.

One line I've been looking at favorably - Psalm 90 verse 15 - Give us joy for as long as You have afflicted us, for the years we've seen bad.

English translations of the above available on request.

Please keep our family in your prayers!

Monday, March 28, 2011

In memory of Lucas

It's three weeks today.

Death Is Nothing At All

Death is nothing at all
I have only slipped away into the next room
I am I and you are you
whatever we were to each other
that we still are
call me by my old familiar name
speak to me in the easy way
which you always used
put no difference in your tone
wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow
laugh as we always laughed
at the little jokes we enjoyed together
pray smile, think of me, pray for me
Let my name be ever the household word
that it always was
Let it be spoken without effort
without the trace of a shadow in it
Life means all that it ever meant
it is the same as it ever was
there is unbroken continuity
why should I be out of mind
because I am out of sight?
I am waiting for you
somewhere very near
just around the corner
All is well

Henry Scott Holland
(1847-1918) Canon of St Paul's Cathedral

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

In memory of Lucas

"Strange is our situation here upon earth. Each of us comes for a short visit, not knowing why, yet sometimes seeming to divine a purpose. From the standpoint of daily life, however, there is one thing we do know: that we are here for the sake of others — above all for those upon whose smile and well-being our own happiness depends, and also for the countless unknown souls with whose fate we are connected by a bond of sympathy. Many times a day I realize how much my own outer and inner life is built upon the labors of my fellows, both living and dead, and how earnestly I must exert myself in order to give in return as much as I have received and am receiving." Albert Einstein

Thank you to everyone who has reached out to us. Please know our whole family is still in mourning and this week is especially hard for Alen at home - she returned Friday to a surreal few days of Purim and is now trying to get back into her "normal" world. Please keep her family in Trinidad in your prayers as well.