Yahrzeit

Next week will mark one year since the most influential man in my life passed, my Pap. (Zalman ben Avraham) In the Jewish faith, observing the anniversary of the death of a loved one, called a Yahrzeit, is one of the most important traditions for a Jew (most practicing Jews). In Judaism, life is considered to have supreme value and as such remembering and respect for the dead is of supreme importance. (click link to read more on traditional death and mourning rituals which I have always found fascinating. Though with how different Jews are there are obviously many variations, thus "traditional" being in bold :)

Observing a Yahrzeit also helps those of us who are mourning a loss to remember our loved one, to allow the memories to flood us with joy and to feel the sorrow of their loss and to continue to heal through this remembering. There are various aspects of mourning throughout the first year and after the first year one is expected to "return to a fully normal life", so to speak.

I should note, next week marks the secular Yahrzeit for my Pap. His Yahrzeit was actually last week on the Jewish calendar which is what is traditionally observed. But since I'm the only practicing Jew in my family and still learning it all myself, I missed it. I was so focused on June 19th I didn't even think of the Jewish calendar! I'm not concerned, my Pap understands.

So, we move on after a year.... I've been thinking of this part a lot. As a former therapist I know society has it's own idea of how long is too long to grieve. Doctors are quick to diagnose depression and medication if someone grieving has been sad, or overly sad, for too long. I always wondered who can determine what overly sad is and too long is? I can't say what's appropriate for another in terms of grief. I like that Judaism gives me this frame of reference. It's not a deadline but a way of reminding me it's okay to feel fully okay again. It's okay to move on. It's okay to remember my Pap and love my Pap but not cry, or feel I want to cry every time I really sit and think of him. It's okay.

The thing is, as I type this my eyes well up and I get that feeling of wanting to cry and my emotions return ever so briefly to the anger over feeling he should still be here. And I let that anger go...again. The desperate longing that he experience my children growing up, as I expected he would, returns too. Not to adulthood necessarily but to their bat and bar mitzvah at least. The longing that they could have known him. I breathe out and let that go too.... again. I quickly run through all those "if only" thoughts in my head and try to let each one go...again.

To me, grief is a life long process. I feel it's okay to rework the stages of grief as long as it takes to not feel that anger anymore. To not feel that longing. To not want to cry over what your're missing out on with your loved one, but to just miss them and remember them and smile at those memories. I think this takes time when that person was one of the most important and influential people in your life. I don't think this ever happens if it was your child. As such, grief is different for everyone and every situation but I still like that my faith tells me it's okay to feel okay.

And I do, feel okay that is. The majority of the time I do. I can smile when I look at pictures and when one of my many memories comes to mind. Like the time I had a party while my mom was on vacation. My Pap worked night shift so I figured, woowhoo, partaaayy! Then my Pap came home. Ooops! He said "What's going on?" as if it wasn't clear. "Are you drinking?" Everyone had hid the beer before he walked in though and since many didn't drink, including myself, we had our pop's in hand and a game on the TV. Someone held up their can and said, "just pop" and watching the game! He seemed to buy it since he never did see anything not "kosher", other than the 20 some people in his house of course. He wasn't that naive but he didn't particularly care either. He chatted with some of the guys about sports and no one knew what they were supposed to do. We just got busted and he was sitting there chatting away. People to talk about sports... what else would he do?! Everyone eventually left and that was the end of it, we never discussed it again. I don't think he told my mom since she never mentioned it. Guess she knows now!

I also can't help but laugh at how he would drive down the middle of the road. As I would hold on for dear life in the car with him and say, "Pap, you know you're not in a lane, right?" And he would say, "No one's behind me." Seriously?! No wonder my daughter says, "hold on tight, guys" when driving with me, my Pap taught me how to drive! Lol.

My Pap made me laugh with all his practical jokes. Even though 52 pick up got annoying as I got older. And he made me cry, to see him sad and especially seeing him so angry on his death bed. He also helped build my confidence as a shy child and mold me into the woman I am today. He encouraged me to follow my heart and my dreams, even if he didn't agree. I always knew he was proud of me and I always felt loved.

Do I wish he was still here? No question. More than anything else I wish in life, I wish that. I look at my kids some days and tears come to my eyes because I just wanted them to know him. Am I angry some days? Yes. Will I ever forgive those who I feel were disrespectful to him as he was dying and immediately after? No, never. And no, that doesn't bother me. Sometimes, some things just aren't forgivable. Do I have those "what if's" plaguing my mind once in awhile? Of course. Will I cry from time to time over the years? I'm sure I will. Am I overly sad or grieving too long? I don't think so.

I'm in a good place and I know it's okay to "move on" and to also still have some of these feelings of grief pop up from time to time. I accepted he is gone some time ago. (see God Is Everywhere) I can't change how he died or when or how others responded to it or even how he felt in the end. I can remember though. I can remember him as I knew him and I can smile. I can light my memorial candle and say Kaddish for him every year on hisYahrzeit. I can tell my kids stories and they will see pictures of him holding them and they will know how much they were loved by him too.

Every blade of grass has an angel that bends over it and whispers, "Grow! Grow!"

- The Talmud





Death is a part of life, plain and simple. Honoring the dead, respecting our lost loved ones, is how we remember not only their lives but where we came from and where we want to go in our own lives. It reminds us to remember to appreciate where we are and what we have right now too. I believe that living our lives to the fullest is the best way to show respect for our lost loved ones. So, I can live my life the way he wanted me to. I can "use it in good health", as he always said about any new thing I showed him or told him about. But most importantly I can be happy, because that's all he ever wanted for me was happiness.

Man did I love my Pap like no one else. Still do. Always will.

Favorite pic of Me and my Pap, I'm 2 years old

I pray you're at peace, Pap. I love and miss you so very much.  ~ Jaci