songbird's crazy world

Last year we lost my mother’s sister. I wrote about it  here . Jewish ritual requires that a headstone be erected at the grave, and that a ceremony called an “unveiling” take place to observe the occasion. Traditionally the headstone is erected shortly after the funeral, with the unveiling held before the first anniversary of the person’s death. I haven’t written about the unveiling … because it hasn’t happened yet. For whatever reason, my mother just couldn’t bring herself to order the stone. It was becoming, as my late grandmother would say, “a shonde for the neighbors”. ( Shonde means “shame” or “embarrassment”, but with a Yiddish inflection it’s more powerful….) So finally I had to take matters into my own hands. I’m the one who made the phone calls. And on Sunday I drove my mother to (Lord help us) the Lower East Side to visit the showroom and place the order. This type of transaction is all very new to me, I’ve been fortunate enough not to have had to purchase a ...

The Dash by Linda Ellis I read of a man who stood to speak At the funeral of a friend He referred to the dates on his tombstone From the beginning to the end He noted that first came the date of his birth And spoke the following date with tears, But he said what mattered the most of all Was the dash between those years For the dash represents all the time That he spent alive on earth. And now only those who loved him Know what that little line is worth. For it matters not how much we own; The cars, the house, the cash, What matters is how we live and love And how we spend our dash. If we could just slow down enough To consider what’s true and real And always try to understand The way other people feel. And be less quick to anger, And show appreciation more And love the people in our lives Like we’ve never loved before. If we treat each other with respect, And more often wear a smile Remembering that this special dash Might only last a w...

(cross posted at Midcentury Modern Moms ) Today's post was supposed to be a fluffy little piece about my daughters' prom woes.  (don't worry, it'll post eventually.) Today Becca was supposed to miss school so that she and her dad could take a look at one of the colleges that accepted her. Today Jen was supposed to be in classes, eat in the dining hall and sleep in her dorm. Today I was supposed to enjoy a business lunch in a fine restaurant in lower Manhattan. Instead, my daughters and I -- and my sisters and parents --  will attend a funeral. My mother's younger sister passed away in the wee hours of Saturday morning. My aunt's death was not unexpected.  she fell ill early in february, and got progressively worse until the inevitable happened. My daughters are no strangers to the rituals of death, of mourning and loss.  They've been to the funeral of a schoolmate, a young man who died so tragically in an auto accident.  (Jen amazed her non-...