I honor our tradition’s’ rituals about mourning. They help us not rush to cheer us out of our feelings or get us to “move on” or do the emotional disservice of “trying to feel better”.
Each ritual or practice serves its sacred purpose in the tapestry of love and memory. We begin to integrate memories into our daily lives.
I wish I was not so bound to these brilliant, mindful and time-tested acts of love and care.
I wish I could honor you, my dear dad, in other ways.
I have been living this life of conscious loving and grieving for so many years. I no longer want to be defined by grief and loss, either mine or others.
Yet, once again, I find myself walking to synagogue to say Kaddish for you, stand in your memory and honor. There is still one more month until time invites me to stop actively guiding your spirit in its ascent. I can’t stop now.
One more month of honoring my mourning in its sea of tears often overflowing with the heartbreak of more than just the loss of you.
God help me.
I want to be done with this.
I want to be done with the grief.
Weariness overtakes me.