Some thoughts on the loss of my Mother ע"ה

Hi,
Uncharacteristically, here are some thoughts I jotted down after the shiva for my Mother. Let me first say I was so privileged to enjoy a shiva in which I experienced an outpouring of love and caring, from so many of my personal friends and colleagues, as well as from Mum's family and acquaintances over the years. I could have written many posts about this (and maybe still will).

These aphorisms are presented as a indication of both my feelings and fears of what can and could happen at shiva houses. If some are uncharitable, please forgive them.

Thanks to Aubrey who contributed some of these

Of “The chair”
Sitting in the chair is humbling. All are above you and the ground is close.
Sitting in the chair is bad for back but good for the heart

Sitting in the chair is empowering. People listen to you. What have you to say?
Sitting in the chair is an opportunity. Share and involve your comforters. They may feel uncomfortable, but you will not regret it.
Sitting in the chair is a responsibility. Like a teacher, focus the class’s attention on the blackboard.
Sitting in the chair is exhausting. At the end of the day are you exhausted by introspection or by your performance?
Sitting in the chair, you choose to confront your feelings, or hide from them.

Sitting in the chair you know exactly what comforters should say; reverse the situation and your mind is a blank.


Of Comforting
The meeting of mourner and comforter occasions a chemical reaction which changes both. The mourner shares an experience and alleviates pain; the comforter gains an experience and loses indifference.
The comforter’s countenance is worth more than his words.
Hugs speak louder than words
If mourners do not mourn, comforters will not comfort

I would prefer my Mother to be alive.
Comforters are like fans in a sports stadium. Their presence expresses support, but their actions and wishes do not impact the result.
He who has not watched a loved one struggle for breath should not try to evaluate my pain.
If I am comfortable with silence, you can be too.
The best comfort you can give me is a story about my mother
If the mourner ends the shiva feeling empty, it is the mourner’s fault; if the comforter leaves the shiva house feeling empty, it is also the mourner’s fault.

Of Life and Death
Entering this world engenders pain for one, joy for a few, and a smile from many; exiting this world engenders pain for one, grief for a few, and a tear from many
Idle chatter denies the enormity of death
Building a picture of a lifetime from memories is like sifting through a handful of pieces from a 1000 piece puzzle.

Of The Shiva
The loss of life is diminished if the shiva does not change the mourner
Do you rise from the chair with relief or with reluctance? Which is better?
If Am Yisrael were to do proper tshuva, the temple would be built; if Am Yisrael were to do proper shiva, would the dead be resurrected?
The shiva is like old age; the days are long but the week is short.
You came to see me. You leave after becoming acquainted with my mother.
Sitting shiva is like getting drunk. You have a spellbound audience and an endless need to speak.
If you leave the mourner smiling, you will probably feel good; if you leave the mourner in tears, he will probably feel good.
באתי לנחם יצאתי מנוחם

Of Mourning
As I recite the kaddish, do you hear my tears?


Of Death
More surprising than the vastness of the experience of death, is Man’s ability to diminish it.
The kiss of G-d hurts.
A long life and a peaceful passing do not justify death.


Mourning customs
The mourner wears the signs of mourning as a badge of honour. The scruffy beard is like a plaster cast. It tells of initial excruciating pain, now stabilized, yet warns those around to handle with care.

Guidelines for mourners
Smile. Bite your tongue, and smile.
Direct your mourners and they will follow
אל תדון את חברך גם כשתגיע למקומו

Thoughts during the bedside vigil
Why has Mum’s blood pressure dropped? Her breathing looks more shallow. Where can I re-charge my mobile?

Words in my head:
Devastated, confusion, surrealistic, mood swings, responsibility, logistics

Wishing you all a Happy Pesach

I really need to add another picture - what Naphtali looks like today after his hair grew in and the scalp was covered over. He has a lovely "בלורית" and a good thick head of still quite short hair.

The dreadlocks are awful. But one day I'll add a picture of what Naphtali looked like with just long hair. He looked lovely.

Enjoy the pictures of Napthatli

As you probably all know, my Mother, Dorothy, passed away a few weeks ago. The loss of such a lovely and loving person, and devoted and doting mother, still fills me daily with a deep sadness. But the way of the world is that time heals, albeit gradually. The vibrant lives of the large families she left behind continue to amuse and amaze. And so, despite the grief, we carry on the newsletter tradition.

Elisheva (5) – The king was in his counting house counting out his…
How good were you (or are you) at parting peacefully – and preferably rapidly - from your children at kindergarten in the morning? I’ve had some heart-rending guilt-ridden spats in my time, as my angelic offspring, their faces stained with real tears, plead pitifully or hysterically not to leave them. A recommended strategy for such occasions is a parting ritual. Elisheva’s self-developed ritual makes all other Mummies jealous. The ritual is: I carry her into kindergarten, but my reward is generous - 25 big, noisy, slurpy kisses on each cheek! As the currency of true wealth is affection, I am very contented with my lot.

Abigail (8) - Cleanliness and G-dliness
I have recounted before Abigail’s tireless efforts to redeem the lost soul of her vagrant father (remember the mezuzah kissing?). Now, she flexes her missionary muscles into supervising the entire family’s ritual cleanliness. On Friday nights after Kiddush, Abigail rushes to the kitchen and takes charge of filling the נטלות with water for washing hands before eating bread. (I’m at a loss for an English translation for נטלות . נטלות are those funny-shaped two-handled beaker-like things used for ritual washing of the hands). No one is allowed to fill a נטלה for themselves.

We are a family of eight (without guests) with two sinks each fitted with aנטלה - which means Abigail races back and forth from sink to sink, for several intense minutes, like a wobbling weeble, until all 16 Isaacs hands are, under her eagle eye, duly cleaned and cleansed of dirt and impurity.

Orly (15) on a holy mission
Orly was chosen to be Bnei Akiva madricha for the village next door – Sha’arei Tikva. In the kitchen one evening, following her appointment and before her first meeting, Naphtali, who has been a madrich for the past two years, opened up and delivered a pep talk which left me and Judy speechless.

“You have to understand” insisted Naphtali, his curly locks twirling with passion “before you even think of becoming a madricha, what is your purpose in the world. How can you be responsible for the education of others before you know why you were created and what you are supposed to do?” And then rhetorically, “Do you know your purpose in the world? Do you know why you were created? Do you? Your purpose” he continued, no one daring to interrupt, ”is to fulfill G-d’s will. That’s what it’s all about. You have to fulfill G-d’s will. That’s the purpose. Everything you do, you have to ask yourself ‘is this fulfilling G-d’s will?’. Only once you understand that can you even begin to think of becoming a madricha. How can you teach others anything if you don’t even know the purpose of your own existence?”

Now, I learned a long time ago never to underestimate my children; they have knowledge, skills and depths that they keep discretely to themselves. But this particular speech, delivered with previously un-exhibited passion and conviction, left me and Judy flabbergasted (and very proud).

Orly seems to have taken Naphtali’s words to heart. She devotes many hours to preparing and delivering weekly activities. She has already faced a number of tricky questions and dilemmas, especially as she is dealing with a population less observant that what she is familiar with in Elkana. And she has become a friend and confidante to a number of young children in sometimes tickly situations. Of Orly’s achievements too, we are extremely proud.

Naphtali (17) – Before and After
You wouldn’t recognize Naphtali if you saw him. He’s had a “baldy”. When his hair became unmanageable (half way down his back), he twisted it into rather stubby dreadlocks. This was not a success. Dreadlocks are not bearable, it transpires. One night, his friends gathered to ceremoniously shear his locks one by one, then shaved his scalp almost clean. He now looks like a normal teenager (if there is such a thing as a “normal teenager”), which to be honest, takes some getting used to. Bli Neder, I will post some “before” and “after” pictures to the blog.

Elon (19) – Game-changing times
One thing both Naphtali and Elon can testify to - with short hair, your tefillin fit much better!

Elon shed his long hair, at the last moment possible, together with his civvies, the day before his call up to the army two weeks ago when he joined the Givati infantry brigade. As we speak, Elon is setting up camp somewhere in the desert north of Eilat beginning his first of many weeks training in the field.

Before going in, Elon participated in a local basketball competition conducted in memory of a friend and neighbor who tragically passed away two years ago aged just 36. The competition pitched seven local neighbourhood teams against each other. Elon played 35 minutes each game, scoring an average of 10 points and battling heroically for every rebound. The whole family turned up to cheer him along at every game. Elon’s team (the 80’s) won the competition with a 100% record, and the Isaacs family earned a special prize as the most enthusiastic supporters! The competition was such a success, the organizers promised to make it an annual fixture. See more about the competition here (in Hebrew).

Ari (22) – An officer’s work is never done
Ari is now a fully-fledged officer, sporting a bar on his shoulder in place of stripes on his arm. This is an outstanding achievement and we are immensely proud of him. He carries responsibility for 30 soldiers. Their military training is the least of his worries; he cares also for their medical, psychological, economic and domestic problems. And believe me these are plentiful. It’s a busy life. He came home at mid-day on Friday and over the following 32 hours, slept 29 rising briefly to fill his stomach to sustain him through the hours ahead of arduous sleep. Ari will accompany his soldiers through a nine-month training program. I hope he gets more control over his sleep regime, otherwise, all we’ll see of him is his dirty wash bag.

Wishing you all a Happy Passover.