Mourning, Being Comforted and Giving Comfort During a Pandemic - Observations and Reflections

I've been working on this post for a while, thoughts occurring to me in moments of isolation and in the company of others on Zoom.  Some of the thoughts are sad, some are funny, some express frustration and some appreciation.  Today is the right day to collect these thoughts and share them; I started putting this together in my head in the days leading up to Mothers' Day, but that was not the right time to share them, because these reflections are not all about my Mothers' death last July, nor did I want to detract from celebrating the truly awesome mothers in my life that needed to be celebrated last week.

Today is the right day because of how our calendar and ritual work.  My mother died on Wednesday July 24, the 21st of Tammuz on the Hebrew calendar.  Today is the 21st of Iyar - tonight at Ma'ariv I begin the final (eleventh) month of Kaddish leading up to my mother's first yahrtzeit, 2 months from today, on that Hebrew calendar.  COVID-19 was an  unidentified virus when my mother died last summer; I was in Israel, 6,000 miles away, and I wrote then about the modified rituals and bizarre nature of my distant, relatively isolated shiva that I observed.  Wow, looking back, I had no idea how isolating and distant mourning could become.  Given the other mourning, shiva, Zoom funerals and virtual minyanim we have participated in as a family since July, giving and receiving comfort have undergone radical change in the last ten months.

So what's funny in all this?  Observing the 12 month mourning period for a parent during a pandemic takes very little effort.  Avoiding concerts and movies?  Not a problem there. Avoid happy occasions, weddings, parties and celebrations?  I have been invited to any since the first week of February.  Avoid public enjoyable activities like watching a ball game?  I wish I could violate my mourning that way. Participate in daily minyan? I don't even have to leave the house, I rarely miss a morning service on Zoom, I don't have to shower first or wear shoes. 6 days a week x 2.2 miles round trip times about 10 weeks?  I've saved about 8 gallons of gas and 150 miles of mileage on my car.

What's hard?  Giving and receiving hugs, pats on the shoulder, in person words of encouragement.  Friends, parents of friends, colleagues, relatives have died in the last two months, without enough people hearing their praise-worthy earthly acts recalled.  Examples of hard work, sensitivity and encouragement, left unheard.  Caterers deprived of income preparing meals of comfort and shiva platters, canceled wedding and b'nai mitzvah celebrations threatening our kosher businesses' very survival. While rabbis and cantors are among the few to join in graveside remembrances, the friends, relatives, colleagues and congregants of the met (person who died) deprived of the mitzvah of comforting the mourner.

What do I appreciate?  Zoom.  The regulars of my daily minyan, even though we can't share toasted bagels gone cold, leftover kiddush egg salad and the kidding that goes along with seeing people daily.  Zoom is good at some things and not others.  I appreciate my rabbis (not just the ones in my congregation - I collect rabbis like corkscrews - you never know when a specific skill or tool will be needed), who have remained available on a regular basis to check in, let off steam or just hang out on the phone for a while.  I appreciate those friends who make the effort to reach out regularly, mourning or not, because everybody has a bad day once in a while, and good friends know when those happen.  I appreciate my students, ages 10 to 80-something, who keep me thinking, moving, learning, researching, seeking and finding.  I appreciate family, a wife who turns out isn't a half-bad barber, daughters who call regularly, a son-in-law who bakes and a small human who lights up the room with his smile, even if he has to be hosed off after every meal.

This is the home stretch of 11 months of kaddish.  It doesn't look like I'll be sponsoring a Wednesday morning breakfast with the minyan crew when I'm done.  The plaque is up in the chapel, but I can't go see it. Maybe some learning will be dedicated to mark the time - it turns out sharing Jewish text is an effective use of Zoom. I'm not sure what the 21st of Sivan will feel like, but I'm pretty sure it will be different that any other end-of-ritual I've felt before.