This past Shabbat I gave a d'var Torah (word of Torah--a very brief talk based on a biblical text) on parashat Ha-azinu (the portion of the Torah that was the text this past Shabbat) in which I talked about the gift of knowing in advance that someone is going to die imminently. This was based on the line in Deuteronomy where God tells Moses to climb a mountain, and that he's going to die on that mountain.
From there I branched into talking about how we knew in mid-August that Mom was going to die soon, and we took advantage of the chance to say to her the things we needed to say, and what a gift it was to be able to do that.
I gave this talk at the synagogue where I have a rabbinic internship this year, and used it again, slightly modified, when I did a brief Yizkor service on Yom Kippur for the small congregation where I led High Holiday services this year (a different congregation from the one where I'm interning).
In addition, I've been saying my mom's name for the Mourner's Kaddish and leading it at services for both congregations.
The point is, you know I'm very much grieving for Mom, and I feel very emotional about the whole thing. But whether I'm leading High Holiday services or Shabbat services at either of the congregations where I'm working, I'm working at those times, and absolutely cannot come unglued. I have to be able to talk, to sing, to finish the service. So I've kept my emotions tightly in check, and I must say, I've done a good job of it.
Then, yesterday afternoon, on Yom Kippur, when I was done leading services, I went to the afternoon service and Yizkor at the synagogue where we're members. I wasn't working, and allowed myself to let go. And during the Yizkor service I cried and cried, and I know I needed to do that.
The whole time I couldn't stop thinking of Holly Hunter's character from Broadcast News, who scheduled her times for falling apart, remaining completely in control the rest of the time. I'm mostly not like that character (I hope I'm less neurotic), but I'm enough of a control freak that I feel proud that I'm developing the ability to hold it together when I need to, and let go when it's appropriate.
I know this is rather late, and for that, I apologize. But I want to express my sincere condolences to you over the loss of your mother. I admire the strength and courage you show in every one of your posts about this issue.
As an aside, I love reading your posts about Judaism.. keep it up :)
Posted by: Megan | 10/09/2006 at 03:10 AM
Megan: It's not late. I'm in the thick of it. In fact it's worse now than in the first month. So I appreciate your condolences very much. Thank you. I'm glad you like the posts about Judaism--in turn, I'm interested in your posts about Islam. From what you've said about Ramadan, it seems like you converted to Islam, rather than being born into it. Is that accurate? If so, I'm a convert too! I converted to Judaism in 1999.
Posted by: Heidi | 10/09/2006 at 08:28 PM
Yes, actually, I did convert and rather recently at that! It's nice to know other converts. The experience of converting seems to be an isolating one at first.
Posted by: Megan | 10/10/2006 at 12:00 PM
I think it can be, and I found that it took some time before I felt completely Jewish. And then there's the ongoing interfaith stuff with relatives (my family is all Christian--mainline Protestant). Hey, you know you've been having a discussion with my husband Mike over on your blog! Funny. Not so weird, I guess, because he found you through my blog, which he's obligated to read. :)
Posted by: Heidi | 10/11/2006 at 09:56 AM