Author: Eve Posen

5 months… Who am I? How will I mourn?

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5 months ago my daddy was here, well, his body was still alive at least. I look back at where I was a month, two months, three months ago, and where I am now, and I see myself in a completely new space. I am healing, or, at the very least, I am moving forward in the world, doing things to honor my father’s memory, doing things to honor my life.
I have been thinking this week about what happened 5 months ago,
5 years ago this Shabbat, my sister celebrated her Bat Mitzvah. We came together as a family, happy, healthy, energetic, loving each other. We sang together, led services and celebrate life and Judaism. This year, I am reading the Aliyah I read for her bat mitzvah for the first time since that Shabbat. I have a feeling my dad will be listening to me and beaming with pride and joy just as he did then.
5 months ago my identity changed, I became a mourner, a girl whose father was no longer there to hug her, support her, praise her, love her. I became the girl who cries in the back of the room, the girl who speaks of her father in the present tense and immediately changes it to the past.
What’s more, is that 5 months ago i began mourner, but only now do I consider myself a mourner. 5 months ago i had an expectation of what a mourner is, of what they do, and others had that same expectation of me. I shouldn’t go to movies, I shouldn’t listen to music, I shouldn’t celebrate, I shouldn’t cry in shul, I shouldn’t talk about him all the time. I was expected to mourn as the tradition prescribes, and yet, surprisingly, I didn’t find that to fit my mourning needs.
So, who am I, Eve the mourner? How will I mourn my daddy in a way that works for me? I will live my life, and dedicate my learning to him. I will cry when I miss him, and mostly, though you won’t know it, I am the girl who cries, because she wishes her dad could see all that she loves. The girl who cries because of the missed opportunities, or because she is sad that she won’t get to share the joys she is experiencing with her daddy. I am the girl who mourns openly, publicly. I am the mourner who some days wants nothing more than to speak about her daddy, share his life with others. And other days, wants nothing more than to cry in some one’s arms about the deep pain that never leaves. I am the mourner that will live life and enjoy what the world has to offer as a way of honoring her father.

A moment in time….

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Over Shabbat, one of the service leaders called our attention to the notion that when saying the shema, some have the custom of saying each word with one full breath. Taking hte time to fully devote oneself to the word, the meaning, the history, the covenant. Taking a moment in time to be lost in words of Torah, a mantra of sorts.
for me, this moment in time brings great meaning. The shema is supposed to be the last thing that a Jew says, the final words, the final affirmation of belief in God and our traditions. Most people never get the chance to have this final moment in time My papa had this chance. He took all of his strength, all of his last energy and put it into belting out the shema as his body shut down. As the morphine dripped into his system, a bit too late, he said the shema, and took his final breath.
28 days after this, I sat with my father, at his bedside as he took his final breaths. He wasn’t conscious, his strength had gone, but I sat with him, and said the Shema. I affirmed for him in me what our expression of faith is he had long ago told me that this is our expression of faith, we can’t change our destiny, we accept it and believe and trust in God. Another moment in time, each word led to the next, to that final space.
I don’t think I take enough time each day to take in the world around me, the moon, the sky, my friends, family, my smile. But, I try, each morning and evening to take a moment in time to say the Shema. It is the utterance of those 6 words that place me in a moment in time that I will forever cherish. It is these 6 words that reaffirm my belief in God, in man and in myself. I will understand it one day, I will hear the world around me, I will find God in my daily life.

Into the Ocean…. of my year

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In the last few weeks I have spent many days at the ocean. Some days and nights in Santa Monica listening to the waves, watching the birds, feeling the water skim by my feet. Watching the water move in and out, wondering about where the water has been. Today, I went with my friends T and A who have been staying with my from New York for the past week to Rancho Palos Verdes. We first went and saw a beautiful, Swedenborgian chapel with all the precious beauty that it holds. Then we continued along the coast to Donald Trump’s golf course and traveled along the public beach trail. The views were magnificent. We took some time, and took in the sights and sounds and I began to reflect on my year.
“The waves rush in and out, Eli Eli She’lo yigamer haolam, hachol v’hayam, rishrush shel hamayim… My God, I pray that these things never end, the sand and the sea, the rush of the waters… Hannah Senesh knew what she was talking about when she wrote these magnificent words. The waves rush, hurried, heavy, the slam into the rocks, rushing, exploding, they hit the end and way back and forth.

These waves, so calming and sweet in their sounds are my year. It rushed, hurried, full force, pushing wildly, unyielding, rushing- then it hit the rocks, slamming into the rocks, the trauma, the obstacles, the sadness- it reaches a violent halt, and then the calm sets in.
The tears rushed like the ocean, pouring out, flowed without end, and then, they too ceased, hit that breaker, nothing is coming, there is nothing left.
That year is over, it hit the breaker, this year begins with a calm stream. Picking up the pebbles as it flows. It is calm, peaceful, nearly perfect. I am sure there will be waves, but maybe I am ready this year. This year, I will surf the waves, ride them out, this year the ocean will not win.

New Year?!?!

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It appears I’ve made it to another stopping point, another breaking point, to the near end of another year. 2007, a year I most certainly will never forget. And, what a year it has been. From the beginning with a fantastic night with my friends in Jerusalem, staring out over the Knesset and taking in the beauty of that wonderful country. To trips to Petra and all over Israel, discovering myself as I discovered the land that I love so much. From the friendships made and broken, the new experience it has been an incredible year. I want so badly to think of 2007 as a great year, even with all the tragedy that it held for me.
It is amazing how this has probably been one of the best years of my life, and at the same time, the worst year of my life. And yes, I have smiled, laughed and grown more than ever before, but I have also cried, screamed, and hurt more than my share.
Do I want this year to be over? I don’t know. I keep thinking nothing can be worse than this year, nothing can hurt more than losing my daddy and my grandfather. Things can only get better from here, and yet, I don’t know if I am ready to move forward into a new calendar year. My whole way of speaking will be changed, “my dad died last year” I will say. But, i’m not sure I am ready to say that, I’m not sure I am ready to leave this year behind. I had so many dreams and aspirations for 2007, and many of them were met, but so many of them were not and I’m not ready to let go of that just yet.
In a week the calendar will begin again, I will go through the cycle of the secular year without my daddy and papa. And, though I am pretty sure it won’t be as hard to celebrate this as it was for Rosh HaShannah, but it will be hard. I won’t be receiving a silly email in my in box from my daddy, his voice won’t be on the other end of the phone when I call home to wish my family a happy new year. I will begin my first calendar year without my daddy, with a new sense of family.
In a few days, the new year will begin, and my resolution is to make it through the year, to find myself as I am today, and grow into that new self!
May this new year bless all of us with health and happiness, may we live and love like there is no tomorrow and make the best of today, because we never know what tomorrow will bring.

A letter…

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Daddy,
It has been four months since you took your last breath in this world and I miss you now more than ever. I am filled with wonder, what would you tell me now, what would the emails have said, would my grades have been better, how could you have helped me through this semester. I wonder how you would have enjoyed the material I am learning, what great brainstorms we would have had. How much of this did you already know? How much of this would excite you? I miss hearing your voice and your gentle but forceful words of encouragement, of support and of love. I wonder what you are doing, how you are filling your days. Do you miss us? Can the soul miss someone or something? Are you watching me?
Sometimes I wish I could feel your presence, I crave the knowledge that you are always with me, but I want it in a physical sense. I am constantly searching for you, trying to think of what you’d say to me, how you would phrase something. I try to remember the fun we had together, the learning we did, and then I try to think about how you’d respond to my problem or challenge of the moment. I try to bring you into my everyday, I try to hold you close and never let you go. I try to ground myself with the roots you gave me, and spread my wings to soar into a new place, and unknown place that terrifies me.
Daddy, I miss you every day. I think of you and your smile, and the joy I brought you, and you brought me. I am broken hearted, some days I am empty, taken over with the grief and sadness i feel when I remember you won’t answer your phone. I wonder if you were ready to go, I wonder what you wanted to do that you never got to accomplish, and can I do it for you? How can I honor your memory? How can I share the great man that you were, that you are to me?
You probably already know these things, what I’m thinking, what I miss, what’s going on.
Daddy, I want you to know that I am o.k., that I am trying to smile again. I, your “beautiful redhead” am trying to make it through, taking it one day at a time, some times minute by minute, but I will go on, I will make it through. I want you to know that I will never forget you, and that now, as I find your letters and tapes, we are having some incredible conversations. I want you to know how much like you I am, how much I admire you and love you.
Daddy, I love you and wish you were here, and Daddy, I’m glad you are at peace.
Alright Daddy, time to go take my final final of the semester, I’ll write more to you later!
I LOVE YOU DADDY, ALWAYS!

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