In the past three and a
half years, I have lost both my mother
and father of blessed
memory. Until my mother’s death in
1996, I never said Kaddish.
I would watch in awe as individuals
in different rows of the
synagogue would stand to
recite the Kaddish,
sometimes in harmony, sometimes as a
single voice raised in
sanctification of the Holy One, Blessed
be God. I always departed
the service during Yizkor
(memorial service), saying
to myself, "I don’t have to be
here yet."
Now I do. As a
Conservative Jewish woman, I decided to
embrace the ritual
of daily Kaddish. It
formed a parenthesis
around my otherwise
hectic days. Kaddish is
a very warm
and comforting concept. A
sense of community is created
among mourners.We awaited
one another’s presence each
morning and evening to
join in the ritual.
The fifth commandment,
honor thy father and mother, truly
does not cease upon their
deaths. The eleven months of
Kaddish,the
yearly rhythm of Yahrzeit (anniversary
of a loved
one’s death), and
the Yizkor services
three times a year, are
all constant reminders of
our connection to our parents.
Not all of us choose to or
feel comfortable attending services
twice a day, seven days a
week.When we say Kaddish,
we act upon our visceral
feelings as well as our sense of
obligation.Henrietta Szold,
the founder of Hadassah,wrote
the following to Hayim
Peretz in 1916 following the death of
her mother.
It is impossible for me to
find words in which to tell you how
deeply I was touched by
your offer to act as "Kaddish"
for
my dear mother… You will
wonder, then,why I cannot accept
your offer.Perhaps it
would be best for me not to try to explain
to you in writing, but to
wait until I see you to tell you why it
is so… The Kaddish
means to me that the survivor
publicly
and markedly manifests his
wish and intention to assume the
relation to the Jewish
community that his parent had, and that
so the chain of tradition
remains unbroken from generation
to generation, each adding
its own link.
You can do that for the
generations of your family, I must do
that for the generations
of my family…
Henrietta Szold, one of
eight daughters, said Kaddish for
her mother and her father
even when it was not the norm
in 1916 for women to
perform such duties according to
Jewish custom.
So why, then, is this
article entitled "On the Road with
Kaddish"? Because
in both 1996 and 2000, saying Kaddish
for my parents coexisted
with trips I took in association
with an international
organization as well as a number of
pleasure trips.
Ordinarily, I must confess,my journeys had
not always included visits
to the local synagogue. But,during
the months I said Kaddish
I was on a mission. I sought out
synagogues wherever I was.
What a rich tapestry I wove
during this synagogue
quest.
At a synagogue in Quebec,
I met a lovely couple from
Uruguay. The woman was
attending Shabbat services
because she had Yahrzeit
for her father. We made such a
connection that my husband
and I continue to correspond
with them to this day.
The first time I was in
Berlin as a member of an organization
comprised of sons and
daughters of Holocaust survivors
and descendants of the
Nazi regime, I spoke to a woman in
the ladies’ gallery and
within a few short minutes we discovered
that the one family she
knew in Boston was a former
teacher of mine at Hebrew
College in Boston and the Mohel
at my nephew’s brit
(circumcision).
Upon entering the
synagogue another time, I was asked
my mother’s name in
order for the men to perform the
Kaddish duties.
I replied that I was quite capable of saying
Kaddish for
my mother myself, and off I went to climb the
stairs to the women’s
section where I sat apart and alone.
(Thank
you,Henrietta).Often my non-Jewish German friends
would accompany me to the
service, and even though their
presence
could not be counted for a minyan (Jewish
prayer
quorum), their comfort
could.
At a synagogue in
Phoenix,Arizona, I was honored with the
second aliyah
(blessing over the Torah
reading) and then invited
to join the
choir! And on another trip
to
Phoenix, having just
barely
arrived for
the minyan from the
airport,
the shamas (sexton)
questioned why I wasn’t
present
the night before, when
they didn’t have enough
people
to make a minyan!
I think
Boston is a bit of a
commute, I
murmured to myself!
Later, when
the shamas overheard
my proficiency in the
service, he leaned over
and said,"You must be Jewish."
In Tucson, I met lovely
people and heard a fabulous joke by
the Rabbi as an
introduction to the week’s Torah portion.The
atmosphere was warm and
welcoming. The people seated
across from me had a
grandchild who just completed a similar
course of study in Israel
as my daughter.
It was truly amazing and
heartwarming for me to find these
synagogues on my journeys.
It didn’t matter how far or near
I traveled,
when I opened the Siddur (prayer
book) I found
the same pages, the same
liturgy,prayers and hymns.Whether
the left side was printed
in German, French,Italian, or English,
the words on the right
side, in Hebrew, remained constant.
There is solace knowing
that whatever gates I pass through,
I am enveloped in
familiarity and comfort.
My own
eleven months of Kaddish are
now complete. But if
your
commitment to saying Kaddish coincides
with your journeys,
seek out synagogues and
perhaps, like me, you’ll find
find new friends and
acquaintances along the way,add more
jokes to your repertoire,
and even cross paths with someone
you know.
More importantly, however,
you will continue to add links to
the generations of your
family.
And when
you finish saying Kaddish,my
fervent hope is for
you, like me, to embrace
the words we recite each morning
in Psalm 30:
Hear my Lord, be gracious,
be my help
You turned my mourning
into dancing
You changed my sackcloth
into robes of joy.
Deborah Shelkan Remis
began her travels to Berlin, Germany in the winter
of 1996, fifty years after
her parents, z’l, first met in Berlin. As a member
of a group comprised of
sons and daughters of Holocaust survivors and
descendants of the Nazi
regime. She has continued to travel to Germany
each year to speak in high
schools and is in the process of completing a
social documentary about a
small town in Germany. Deborah lives in
Swampscott, Massachusetts
with her husband and three daughters.
Deborah Shelkan Remis
shared her story of connecting to Jews around the
world through the shared
experience of saying Kaddish.
If you have a
similar story about any
prayer you would like to share with Being
Jewish,
we invite you to send us a
submission.Visit www.beingjewish.org for more
information on how to
submit articles or email to beinngjewish@aol.com.
|
Having
a richer SPIRITUAL life.
