The bitter and the sweet
So yesterday was the first day of Chanukah, the holiday having begun the previous evening. (Jewish holidays always begin at sundown. “It was evening and it was morning, the first day.” Genesis 1:3)
And, as is my habit, I read my email, Facebook, etc., before I got dressed for work.
And there it was, on Facebook. A post from my friend N. Her father had died during the night.
It was not unexpected, N’s father was 98, and had been living in a nursing home for years. Still, you’re never ready for that loss, no matter how old your father was, or how old you are, when it happens.
But to observe your father’s yartzeit — the anniversary of his death — on the first night of Chanukah ...
Last night was the big Chanukah party at synagogue.the party starts in the parking lot, with an outdoor candle lighting, with the Rabbi saying prayers, and the Cantor playing his guitar and singing Chanukah songs. Our local fire department sends one of its trucks (our fire commissioner is a member of the synagogue), so the kids can see it up close. Later everyone goes inside for pizza and latkes and jelly donuts.
During the party you’ll find me taking donations. We collect toys for local indigent families, and we collect money so that the Rabbi can buy small Legos sets to take to Israeli children who have been hospitalized.
It was a nice party, a pleasant evening.
At the end of the evening I found myself in the sanctuary for evening prayers. The Cantor and his wife were there, saying Kaddish for her father, who died last week. And my friend B was there to observe her father’s yartzeit.
So much sadness.
And then the Rabbi handed out dreidels, and once again we said the blessings and lit the menorah, and sang Chanukah songs.
From mourning to rejoicing.
And, as is my habit, I read my email, Facebook, etc., before I got dressed for work.
And there it was, on Facebook. A post from my friend N. Her father had died during the night.
It was not unexpected, N’s father was 98, and had been living in a nursing home for years. Still, you’re never ready for that loss, no matter how old your father was, or how old you are, when it happens.
But to observe your father’s yartzeit — the anniversary of his death — on the first night of Chanukah ...
Last night was the big Chanukah party at synagogue.the party starts in the parking lot, with an outdoor candle lighting, with the Rabbi saying prayers, and the Cantor playing his guitar and singing Chanukah songs. Our local fire department sends one of its trucks (our fire commissioner is a member of the synagogue), so the kids can see it up close. Later everyone goes inside for pizza and latkes and jelly donuts.
During the party you’ll find me taking donations. We collect toys for local indigent families, and we collect money so that the Rabbi can buy small Legos sets to take to Israeli children who have been hospitalized.
It was a nice party, a pleasant evening.
At the end of the evening I found myself in the sanctuary for evening prayers. The Cantor and his wife were there, saying Kaddish for her father, who died last week. And my friend B was there to observe her father’s yartzeit.
So much sadness.
And then the Rabbi handed out dreidels, and once again we said the blessings and lit the menorah, and sang Chanukah songs.
From mourning to rejoicing.
Is the anniversary of a death celebrated on the Jewish calendar, then? So it'll always fall on Chanukah?
ReplyDeleteYes, Liz, the anniversary is observed according to the Jewish calendar. N will always observe the anniversary of her father’s death on the first night of Chanukah. The same way that I observe my father’s anniversary the day after Simchat Torah. And my father observed his mother’s anniversary the day before Passover,
ReplyDeleteOn a happier note, the age of a child about to celebrate bar or bat mitzvah is also calculated by the Jewish calendar.so a young man whose secular birthday is in December might have his bar mitzvah in November because he’s already 13 according to the Jewish calendar.