Your grief for what you’ve lost holds a mirror up to where you’re bravely working. Expecting the worst, you look and instead, here’s the joyful face youve been wanting to see. Your hand opens and closes and opens and closes. If it were always a fist or always stretched open, you would be paralyzed.
Mourning My Father by Mayim Bialik As I wrote here on Kveller, my father died last month. The period of sheloshim (30 in Hebrew) just ended, as a matter of fact. Sheloshim marks the end of 30 days of mourning. There are restrictions on behavior and activities for the 30 days and there are additional
How to Write a Eulogy by azraiel this is the first draft of the eulogy I gave for my grandfather. I changed about 25% of it on the fly, but I don’t have a copy of what I actually said. Everyone whose opinion I care about loved it, including my grandmother. Speak from the heart,
“But I explained that deep grief sometimes is almost like a specific location, a coordinate on a map of time. When you are standing in that forest of sorrow, you cannot imagine that you could ever find your way to a better place. But if someone can assure you that they themselves have stood in
“What the dead don’t know piles up, though we don’t notice it at first. They don’t know how we’re getting along without them, of course, dealing with the hours and days that now accrue so quickly, and, unless they divined this somehow in advance, they don’t know that we don’t want this inexorable onslaught of