Jan 08, 2006 15:02
I just got home from Jacob's mom's shiva. He is taking it so well. I've always admired his strength and ability to be civil and calm through the worst of times. He is truly being tested at this time in his life, and I am hurting for him. As my mother and I walked through the door into his house, she said the most appropriate thing: "New deaths always remind us of previous deaths" and I nodded solemnly without taking in the words. As I sit here now, defrosting from the cold, I truly feel what she meant. It was exactly 4 years ago during this season that my dad died. While he died alone without having seen us in months, I know she died surrounded by those she loved after the strongest fight I have ever seen. I think the way we die tells a lot about us. It was my dad's dream to die alone, peacefully, in the ocean, and I'm sure she wanted to see those she affected before (and even after) she died. The season of winter is so appropriate for this. The cold leaves an etching on our moods, on our skin, and leaves us vulnerable to more. If it had been a pretty summer day, the feelings of woe for the witnesses would surely wear off sooner. Though the cold really makes us think. It makes us hurt. It, like in a Christmas Carol, reminds us of winters past: a subject for me which is particularly tragic. I just hope that if Jacob needs anything, he can come to me, someone who has been down this cold empty path before, and maybe I can just listen or advise. All of our lives and situations are different, but I truly believe that loss allows people to come together, and often we are surprised at its results. I remember at my father's memorial service at my temple (The same temple in which, 2 months earlier, i had become a bat mitzvah) I was able to look out on all of the faces of aquanentices, teachers, and my best friends and know that I was not alone in this. Perhaps my father was alone on the sea, but that is what he wanted. I wanted to be surrounded, even smothered, to conceal my feelings. I am still dealing with it now, but loss has truly helped me gain and discover my true friends.
I hope all is well for everyone, and that no one has to deal with this sort of pain so young.
Goodbye.
Maia.