De ja vue. It’s really happening. I’m returning back to New York City. It’s a year since my mother’s untimely death, and we are going to have the unveiling ceremony for my dear mother Lieba. Her wonderful life was snuffed in a horrific, tragic fire twelve months ago. I’m going to meet the complete family again, all nine brothers, sisters, spouses, and their children, uncles, aunts, and cousins, with their families. In total there will be over 150 souls.
I wonder are we celebrating death or life? Do these events bring fresh pain, grief, and despondency? If so, why the unveiling ceremony? I need something redeeming with this gathering. I need to be inspired. I agonize with these thoughts and I’m sure others do at such times.
In the remarkable works of the late Dr. Elisabeth Kubler-Ross in dealing with stages of life and death, there is a formula for unpleasant events and death. They may be called, stages of grief. First there is denial, this isn’t happening to me, and then comes the stage of anger. After anger comes a stage of loneliness and bargaining. Then there is a stage of finally letting go, darkness before the dawn, and a final stage of acceptance.
Total acceptance of the fact is closure. We therapeutically heal with the finality of things and learn how to move on. Unpleasant events are not necessarily limited to death and may be applied to many other traumatic experiences. Dr. Bruce Fisher in his wonderful book “Rebuilding” integrates the stages of grief as a process that is necessary for divorce closure. Whoever has a failed relationship, loss of a job or self-respect, a position of influence, are all candidates for cure through the stages of grief.
I, for one, have found that eleven months of reciting Kaddish and attending Minyan is a way to deal with feelings and closure. By attending a Minyan you meet people of all ages and social status. The common goal is to deal with the loss. At the Minyan friendships are born and created. Interest in others is bound to surface. One notes how important you become when you are gone from the Minyan.
As you recite the Kaddish you fall into the rhythm of other Minyanaires. A harmony and song is created. The old and the young, the fast reader and the new reader are all slowly but surely working it out, and after a while the Kaddish becomes a melody, sweet and soothing to the wounded and grieving. A support group is formed.
But at my New York gathering I discovered something new and wonderfully awesome. It was a gathering of all the new babies named after my beloved mother Lieba. A new energy force had been created.
No less than seven grand or great granddaughters have been born and named Lieba this year. Each infant different, but carries the same name. Each has its own personality and temperament. This is totally overwhelming for me.
Yes, out of the ashes of a burnt house the seeds for seven new homes have arisen. All dedicated to emulate the life of the matriarch of the family, by carrying out her kindness and selflessness.
At the end of the ceremony my father was surrounded by the many infants and parents and suddenly I knew what healing and grieving means. The Jewish way for closure is not finality; it’s opportunity. One door closes while the other one opens.
I heard one of my sisters say, “look at Lieba” and seven pairs of parents turned and looked lovingly at their new baby Lieba. The love is indescribably delicious.
My father did not stop saying, “if only Lieba was here to see the beautiful babies”. At that moment I felt her presence.
I am now home in California thinking about this emotional experience. Paradoxically, the closure is over, no more grieving but the closure is replaced with a new openness making way for a new generation.
The little seedlings planted and growing in love called Lieba.