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.

Bilingually Mourning, Shiva in Two Languages

Since the 7 Day Shiva Candle was only lit halfway through shiva for my brother, it's still burning strong.

Or you can also call this post:

The Advantage/Adventure of Being Bilingual!

After close to forty-six, our 46th Aliyah Anniversary is in less than two months, years in Israel I've reached the point where I can rather easily switch between Hebrew and English pretty much mid-sentence. And many of our anglo friends are the same.

Even among friends more veteran here, and there aren't too many, English is still the language we prefer for conversing among ourselves. So while I was sitting shiva for my brother this week, a very good portion of the time you'd here only English. But then, if suddenly a Hebrew speaking neighbor would enter, they'd follow my lead and even mid-sentence switch into Hebrew. At no point did I have over anyone in the anglo crowd totally incapable of following the switch.

Shiloh isn't known as one of those "English speaking" places like Gush Etzion or Ramat Beit Shemesh, but there are quite a few anglos and bilinguals from birth, like my kids can be called. They are the Israelis who grew up hearing, and usually speaking, English at home but functioned in Hebrew outside. So, they appear to be regular Hebrew-speaking Israelis, but not only do they know English well, frequently as if they had been a foreign country, their culture and sense of humor are very binational.

That's it for now. Today is Friday, and I have so much to do... Back to ordinary life, thank Gd.

Sign is down, and Shiva is over

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.

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.

Trip to Netanya via Ariel

Here are some photos from a mitzvah, not for pleasure trip to Netanya via Ariel. A neighbor was sitting shiva, that's the week of mourning, at his parents' apartment in Netanya. I went with a couple of neighbors.

One of the things I've learned is how G-d controls everything, all the timing, etc. Earlier than morning, I had been at the demonstration at the regional offices in Psagot, against our buses being banished from the Jerusalem Central Bus Station. When a neighbor overheard that I had a ride, she asked if she could join us. I arranged it. Then a few days or so later, after I had sent an email to the Shiloh group that I needed a ride to a wedding, she called saying she was "paying me back." And I went to that wedding with her and her husband.

Even though the ride to Netanya is only just over an hour, the climate is different. And in the winter, the sky is amazing.

Too bad I didn't got there for pleasure... another time, G-d willing.

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.

Never Too Late, Forgiveness and Comfort

Yesterday was Tisha B'Av, the ninth of the Jewish Month of Av, a day full of tragedy in Jewish History.  Our sages tell us that the Second Temple was destroyed because of sins between people, holding grudges and taking out revenge.

My mother passed away just a month ago, and I'm finishing off an extended* shloshim, the thirty days from burial, a period of time in which the mourner is required to restrict oneself from pleasures, such as luxuriating in a bathtub, wearing new clothes, cutting hair, manicures/pedicures, listening to music, going to social events etc.  For most mourners, that is those who are mourning a spouse, sibling or child, the official mourning ends with the shloshim, but for a parent it lasts a full twelve months (according to the Jewish Calendar.)  The additional months are less restrictive; the hygienic acts of bathing/swimming, haircutting, manicures/pedicures are allowed.

Jewish Law requires a mourner to be comforted all during that mourning period, even after the seven day shiva has ended.  My shiva for my mother was international.  I began it immediately after the funeral in Long Island, NY, at my cousin's home, then I was in Westchester, NY at my sister-in-law's, then to JFK International Airport where people who realized I was in "shiva mode" with ripped shirt and slippers, said the traditional words of comfort and then I flew home to Shiloh where I completed the shiva.  Obviously I didn't have too long a time in any one place.

I can probably list almost everyone who did manage to visit or call during the shiva. That's bad.  It means that I have wondered why some people hadn't.  Their absence wasn't lost on me.  In some cases, I was (even am) very upset and surprised.  But then one by one, I have gotten calls, or people have stopped me in the street apologizing effusively for missing the shiva.  Last night one neighbor came over, not wanting to take a short-cut in comforting me.  It's a good thing we haven't yet rehung the pictures nor put away all the photo albums.

Of that list of people, almost everyone has since spoken to me.  There are still a couple whose absence really hurts.  I was planning on letting it fester, but then inspired by a wonderful blog post by my friend Ruti, I realized that it would be a terrible mistake.

None of us are perfect.  I'm sure I have unintentionally and inadvertently hurt or offended many.  If I decide to forgive those who have hurt me, there's a chance that I, too, will be forgiven.  It's never too late to forgive and comfort, but don't procrastinate any more.

* My shloshim for my mother is longer than thirty days, because the funeral was four days after her death, and we count it from the funeral, not the day of death.

my mother with a great-granddaughter

Two Super Simple Ways to Cook Chicken Breasts

I found, post-shiva, a bag of "something unrecognizable" in the freezer.  When sitting shiva, one isn't supposed to handle the mundane tasks of the house.  My kids took over, and here I am almost a month later still trying to get it to its usual mess.  I have found various foods in the freezer which I am 100% certain I didn't buy.  Among them was a bag of chicken breasts, which I took out to cook for Shabbat.  I don't know what the kids had planned on doing with them, but I made two different things.  We were expecting guests, so I felt like having something a bit different.

#1 I sliced up an eggplant, and lined the bake and serve pan with it.  Then I placed the chicken breasts and topped them with onions, tomatoes and some spices.  I dribbled just a drop of oil, put it in the oven and baked it.  You really can't get easier than that.  It's also very dietetic. 

#2  There were too many to fit in the bake and serve pan, so I took the rest and prepare them in a small frying pan.  First I cut up onions and placed them in the frying pan, then the chicken breasts and topped them with a  fresh tomato.  When that was ready, I wrapped it in foil and put it in the freezer.

Trying to Get Back on Track

As many of you know, I just got up from sitting shiva, the weeklong Jewish mourning practice, for my mother yesterday.

After getting up from shiva, which is literally how shiva ends, it was very hard to dive into the household tasks, do an inventory of the food in the fridge, freezer, closets and piled all over the place.  In all honesty, it wasn't because I was miserable, it was physical.  First of all it was a fast day yesterday, the 17th of Tammuz, and my energy levels are always very low without starting the day drinking lots of water and coffee.  I have to flush out my system.

Why was there food piled up, ok, mostly juices and soda?  I received a "shiva package" from work.  I guess it pays to be associated with a major supermarket chain.  I have to figure out what to do with the leftovers.  If I had sat all the shiva at home, much more would have gone.  My kids, neighbors and other visitors were also very generous, bringing lots of food and stuff.

Another reason, I'm having trouble doing everything is that those four long airplane trips in recent weeks sure made me feel like a cripple.  The good part about the flying was the long walks I took in the airport.

There will be a new "normal" now.

One of the very last pictures taken of me and my mother together less than a week before she died.

The Blessing of a Full Shiva

"Shiva" is actually the Hebrew word for seven 7 שבע sheva.  The same linguistic root for week שבוע shavu'a and oath שְׁבוְּעָה shvu'ah. And just to make things more interesting, the letter שְׁ the "sh" sound has a little dot on the top right.  If you move it to the left, the sound is like an "s." Then the Hebrew שבע sava  means satisfied.

So since my mother died on the 7th of Tamuz, and there's no Jewish Holiday to cancel shiva I get the full seven days, including a Shabbat and time to have been at the funeral, sat with family, was comforted by friends in New York, then flew to Israel to be home in Shiloh, and I still have a full two days of shiva left.

I'm back in my "shiva uniform," ripped shirt and all.

First the "Shiva" Calls, then the Mazal Tovs

It hasn't been dull here in Shiloh while I was away in Arizona doing my Kibbud av v'em, honoring my father and mother.  During the short week I was gone, two neighbors began sitting shiva, the week of mourning, and neighbors' children got engaged to each other.

The day I returned I went out to pay shiva calls, comfort the mourners. 

And then the following day, I went to my neighbor to say "mazaltov."

Life's never very dull.  Is it?

I Like These "Long" Fridays

Twenty-four hours aren't just twenty-four hours on the Jewish Calendar. That's because we divide our days at nightfall. So now, in the northern hemisphere, evening is late. That gives us more time to prepare for our Shabbat, Sabbath.

Today, I did a few things.
I went to Tel Shiloh, about a kilometer and a half from my house. We have a monthly women's prayer on Rosh Chodesh the first day of the Hebrew month.

Then I went to my neighbor to get measured. She'll be sewing me a skirt.

Then I went back home and cooked.

Then I went back, more than half way down to visit a neighbor whose mother had just died. She's only going to be here until Saturday night and then she'll sit shiva (keep the mourning week) some place else.

Then back up to cook.

Now I really don't have time, so that's it for now.

Shabbat Shalom and Chodesh Tov!

Getting Up From Shiva, Jewish Mourning

Cross-posted on Shiloh Musings

This morning, before going over to my friend to "get her up" from mourning, I quickly did an internet search to check if there's something to say, along with the "getting her up and out."

Aish's site had the clearest instructions:

The seventh and final day of shiva is observed for only a few short hours, although this counts as a whole day. After the last Shacharit service, the mourners sit low again for a short time. Then those who have come to comfort the mourners say to them, "Arise." The comforters then say:
No more will your sun set, nor your moon be darkened, for God will be an eternal light for you, and your days of mourning shall end. (Isaiah 60:20)

Like a man whose mother consoles him, so shall I console you, and you shall be consoled in Jerusalem. (Isaiah 66:13)

The mourners acknowledge that the shiva is over by leaving the shiva house publicly for the first time, taking a short walk around the block with those who have come to comfort them.

So, that's what we did. And then I walked her back to her door so she could go back to her life.

"tip" to mourners (Jewish Laws)

I feel rather peculiar writing this.

In one sense it's necessary, and in the other it is contrary to the halacha.

OK, the story is that a few times I've been asked to "cut the female mourner's clothes" at a funeral.

It's generally simple, though traumatic. I do a small cut the neckline, over the heart, with a very sharp knife and then the mourner is supposed to rip it a bit. It's more modest than it sounds. Also, many people wear more than one layer of clothes, and if necessary, the edges are pinned together with a safety pin during the week of shiva.

But what's the "tip?" If you're in any position to plan what to wear, please wear a woven fabric, or natural fibers like cotton. Don't wear strong, sturdy synthetic knits, like Lycra, which can be very difficult to cut. The finish on some of those tops make cutting dangerous because of the force which must be used. Giving advice about what clothes to wear during shiva is so contrary to the principle that clothes are just "material" and not important, norishkeit.

While I'm at it...
Ladies, if you're going to be sitting in a low chair, you may need a longer than normal skirt, or at least a cover.

Oy, I wish this post was about more cheerful things.

Shavua tov

Strange weather, but...

...that's how it always is this time of the year.

The past few days has been very sandy and dusty. I was hoping a nice clean rain would come down to clean off the solar heating panels, which heat our water via sunshine. When they're too dusty, they don't work. By the end of the summer, they're always a mess, but at least we need to start the summer getting the maximum from them. They aren't cheap.

Last night when I was paying a shiva call in Givat Achiyah, just north east of Shiloh, suddenly I heard what sounded like rain, but it hadn't smelled like it was going to rain. So I thought it was just the wind, since it is a windy spot.

But when we went out, boy were we surprised. It was pouring, pouring hard. I was afraid that my hat would get ruined.

When I spoke to my daughter this morning, she was surprised. She hadn't noticed any rain in Ofra, which is just south of us. They usually have worse weather than we do.

Chazal, our Sages, say that it rains, the Heavens cry when a Tzaddik, a righteous person passes away. I guess it was crying for Yossi.

Just about ready to cook

Before I forget, meander to the latest Carnival of the Mundane!





Bleary eyed I am, sitting here at the keyboard, drinking coffee. I went to bed a few hours late. This is how my kitchen looked, just about ready for Pesach. The only things missing were are (I must be honest) the bowls in the sink and the dish drainers. They're still all lined up in the hallway.






I think a nice big 6qt pot has disappeared. I'm pretty sure I have/had one. Also the water kettle my husband and I both remember is no where to be found, but there was a different one instead. I'll have to trust that it's a substitute, since it was in the Pesach closet.



Let's try catching up, since I haven't been blogging much, and once my coffee's finished I'll be too busy again. Though the computer's a good "break" for me.



Friday morning, my husband told me I must go out and see the Chabad camp taking place right near the house. Armed with my trusty camera I went out to shoot a shot and was asked to be "official photographer." I've already sent the pictures to the young woman who organized it. Wow! Digital photography does have its pluses.




Shabbat was Shabbat with strange food about which I'll blog later, bli neder (which means, no promise, but). Nice Shabbat Hagadol shiur in English by Rabbi Dov Berkovits; it's a tradition in the neighborhood! Have I told you what a great neighborhood this is?

After Shabbat I answered a bit of email, but no blogging. Then I went back to the kitchen to work and then I went to a neighbor whose father had died in England. He just got back from the shiva, but he felt the need to "sit" here, too. According to Jewish Law, one is to comfort the mourner for the first month, even the year, not just the official week of "shiva." His local rabbi told him to publicize a couple of "reception times," and people came from all over Shiloh.

While I was there I realized that one of the couples visiting has just the right sons to help us with the attic schlepping, which was all that remained for my husband to do. It's a "two-man" job, and our young men aren't home any more. So I walked out when they did to ask about their sons. Mission accomplished!

In addition they mentioned that a different neighbor, whose mother had just passed away, was sitting shiva at home tonight. So I went down with them and then I took a ride up with another neighbor who lives closer in order not to inconvenience them.

Back to work!

Shiva ending and flowers at the last of the sun

I've been popping in every day for a few minutes at the shiva house. It's strange. I was on the "Vaadat Klita" when they all arrived. And then at the funeral, I did the "kriyah," the knife cut on the mourner's clothes. I feel responsible. The clan enjoyed their 16 years here, but they're moving on. Within a short time, only the old woman, mother, grandmother, great-grandmother in her grave will remain in Shiloh.

Tonight's the last night of the shiva. Tomorrow morning they "get up" and go to the grave to say goodbye.

Walking home, the light was strange. It was that "last light" just before dusk. The pictures didn't come out very well, but they match my mood.