#this right here is why i have started loving the mourners kaddish

[shalom-iamcominghome]

In the Jewish tradition, the special prayer known as the Mourners' Kaddish is not about death, but about life, and it praises God for having created a basically good and livable world. By reciting that prayer, the mourner is reminded of all that is good and worth living for.

...

How does God make a difference in our lives if He neither kills nor curses? God inspires people to help other people who have been hurt by life, and by helping them, they protect them from the danger of feeling alone, abandoned, or judged.

-When Bad Things Happen to Good People, Harold S. Kushner, p. 153, 1981

[nerd-at-sea5]

hc/mini fic

when the cancer gets to the point that mac needs to be permanently hospitalized, the other paper girls are there more than mac’s own family, tiff and erin are there from the end of school until dark, kj ends up sleeping at the hospital more than 3x a week.

one day mac gives kj a ring, it’s a large silver one, a chain pattern around it, and they say that they got it with kj at the arcade the first time the two had a sleepover, that they wanted kj to have one ‘not shit thing from me. only ‘cause your memory sucks ass.’ (but they both know it’s way more emotional)

kj’s hands are to small to keep the ring on, so they buy a chain and string it on, and never take it off. a few weeks later, kj’s in mac’s room, doing homework with tiff while mac and erin listen to music from dylan’s walkman, and mac watches kj’s hand shaking back and forth rapidly before realizing that they’re spinning the ring/chain around their hand. ‘kaje the fuck are you doing?’ ‘i...don’t know. it feels nice? like when i rub my knuckles together, or do the thing were i use my whole face to blink?’ mac laughs at them, but finds it endearing.

exactly a week before mac’s 16th birthday, kj’s mom shakes them awake in the middle of the night ‘get a jacket honey we have to go to the hospital.’ there’s a horrible sinking feeling in kj’s chest but they still ask why, ask what’s going on, ‘dylan coyle called. he didn’t seem to happy about talking to us but...they don’t think your...friend is going to make it through the night, they said they wanted you there.’

the brandman’s make it to the room and for the first time in kj’s life,  they truly sees mac as weak. not in a sense of degradation, in a sense of there’s sleeplessness behind their eyes, they look tiny compared to the bed, mac is much to young to be dying. 

mac’s dad wasn't even there, neither alice. and dylan was sitting next to the room, not daring to look inside.

‘damn dylan actually called you? he seemed royally pissed about it.’ ‘mac...’ ‘yeah?’ 

the two stand there for a moment, before kj starts laughing. soon enough mac is as well, while kj’s parents are staring in suprise, turn around and sit with dylan.

‘i can’t believe your fucking dying.’ ‘i know right?!’ ‘it doesn't make any sense.’

but soon mac’s laugher turns into wheezing, and they groan again, leaning back onto the pillows. ‘fuck. ok, c’mere asshat.’

kj obliges, laying down next to mac, hugging the smaller paper girl tightly, ‘i love you, i love you, i love you-’

‘’s ok, kaje. i love you too dummy. it’ll be ok.’

but it’s not ok, because when mac pulls her into a kiss, kj feels their hand fall limp from their back, and they finally start sobbing.

erin and tiffany come in after school to find an empty room, aside from kj in the corner, holding the necklace and shaking with tears, whispering the words to the mourners kadddish over and over again; ‘yitgadal v’yitkadash sh’mei raba b’alma di-v’rachirutei, v’yamlich malchutei b’chayeichonuvyomeichon uvchayei d’chol beit yisrael, ba’agalauvizman kariv, v’im’ru: “amen.”’ 

note; this is not the full mourners kaddish, you can find the full one here

[gay-otlc]

Hey, I loved your Jewish elves hcs!!! please do more if you feel like it 🥺

Oh wow, thanks! :D

I'm in my Tiertice brainrot era (I have been in this era for literally years) so have some Tiertice headcanons: Judaism edition

This isn't necessarily a headcanon, but just something that was in my brain- Tiergan and Prentice + David and Jonathan.

Specifically, that part in Machar Chodesh where they have their "thank god you're alive" gay reunion and then they kiss. It just reminds me of Them particularly in Nightfall.

(Fun fact: Machar Chodesh is the gay Haftarah. I was assigned the gay Haftarah for my b'nai mitzvah before I even knew I was gay)

Tiergan has a fairly stereotypical Jewish nose and Prentice thinks it is actually the most beautiful thing in the world (he's right big noses are awesome)

Prentice and Tiergan disagree on whether or not matzah tastes good and it's the biggest argument they've ever had.

The Lost Cities do have synagogues, but sometimes Tiergan and Prentice totally legally visit human synagogues. They're just neat, you know?

Especially since I have a headcanon that elf synagogues don't do Mourner's Kaddish, since elves die so rarely, so after the mind break Tiergan goes to human synagogues more frequently.

Tiergan is one of those Jews that genuinely believes matzah ball soup can fix literally anything. Wylie has the flu? Matzah ball soup. Forkle got stabbed? Matzah ball soup. Prentice's mind is broken? Matzah ball soup

Prentice's mind was not, in fact, fixed by matzah ball soup.

Prentice absolutely loves Purim. It's the "get drunk off your ass and boo at this dude while eating pastries shaped like his stupid hat" holiday. Literally what is not to like?

He also bakes hamentaschen very well.

I don't feel like coming up with a whole Hebrew name for Tiergan but it absolutely starts with Eben. It means rock. The Granite disguise was always meant to be.

End here for the mostly lighthearted headcanons!

Holocaust TW for the next two.

Prentice joined the Black Swan because he was so angry at the Council for not doing anything about the Holocaust.

Seriously though, why did the Council not doing anything about the Holocaust? What the fuck, my dudes?

[dclevinson]

August 21: my kaddish month

I’ve sent this to a number of people, but I’m putting it here too in case some readers who might be interested will stumble across it:

A little more than a month has passed since Cindy died, and I get asked a lot how I’m doing. My standard answer starts with a couple ways of framing:

 --- the earthquake is over, but there are lots of unpredictable emotional aftershocks

 --- I’m past the Shock & Numbness phase, but normal life doesn’t seem normal. Lots of How Can This Be Real moments that can be disorienting and distressing

 --- many times emotions collide: how much to lean into or away from grief, how to feel it’s OK to feel OK when I do, how keep her with me and move forward too, etc

 I suppose at some point a fascination with grief can start to make others uncomfortable, but grieving has a logic of its own. One key part of “after” life was the 30 days of daily religious services I attended to honor her memory.  I found the routine and --- surprisingly, the ritual --- spiritually nourishing. Cindy’s eyebrows always shot up at the word “spiritual.” Usually mine too. I hope those of you I send these four pages to don’t find it too tedious Perhaps it’s a way of keeping Cindy in your thoughts and hearts too…

       I am a most unlikely daily mourning ritual observer. I didn’t do it for my father, and he asked us not to. But the ritual mourning prayers and the place where I’d be doing it meant a lot to Cindy, so I just committed without much deliberation. One problem in writing about a fairly traditional type of observance is that the spectrum of Jewish religious practice can be mystifying, even to many Jews. So how explain it to outsiders? I’ve tried to do it without being either too reverent or irreverent.

 One basic mourning commitment is to say “kaddish”, the mourner’s prayer, for a set amount of time. Jewish practice and custom is intellectually intricate and often arcane; there are rules and exceptions to rules and different interpretations of rules, etc. There are other customs/demands for remembrance too. Many think of saying kaddish as a year long commitment. Plus yearly anniversaries, set to a moving Hebrew calendar --- just to add to the degree of difficulty. But even the year thing has permutations: actual practice for some groups is 11 months, not 12.

 Why?. Different interpreters and communities make their own choices on duration. Our ritual director says “eleven.” Basically, some 13th century source says that “the wicked in Gehinom took 12 months for their souls to reach the highest levels of heaven.” But most Jews don’t even believe in a physical heaven!? Never mind. So, the reasoning goes, if the wicked took 12 months, we’ll mourn for 11: because our beloved Was Not Wicked. Welcome to Talmudic reasoning. But, traditionally, the year(ish) is for parents and children. For spouses the allotted time is 30 days. Though many people today may just do a year for anyone in the family. Thirty struck me as the perfect amount for the act to stay meaningful, helpful and not something I would treat as an increasingly resented chore.

 It’s not a prayer that religious custom allows you to say by yourself. You need a minyan (quorum) of 10. It used to be men, but now men or women, at least at our conservative temple (shul, synagogue, whatever --- more insider confusing terminology). But some do say it by themselves for the comfort it brings if finding a group is too arduous. And I cheated a couple days by joining the group virtually. But I found being with a gathering of supporters did matter to me. I could have gone to a shorter evening service to do this, but preferred the morning time. And came to think a 40ish minute observance time a good block to have meaningful daily impact.

 And then there’s the prayer itself. I realized right away that the weekday morning prayer service had many different kaddishs, similar prayers of thanks for and praise to a divine entity. But there’s one specific mourner’s version, said 3 times in oour short 40ish minute service. Twice, almost in succession at the end --- overkill or emphasis, depending on your point of view. Why the repeats? Haven’t pursued that yet. And, as some of you know, the prayer for the dead doesn’t mention dying or losing loved ones or honoring their memory, etc. It just profusely praises God (and lots of different words or phrases to refer to such entity since he/she/it is too holy and all powerful to mention the Real Name). Some phrases: “May god’s name be exalted and hallowed, his sovereignty soon accepted… glorified, celebrated, lauded, worshiped, exalted, honored, extolled and acclaimed… Lots of current Jewish religious practice incorporates the Middle Ages wholesale. Or earlier. Read the English on the facing page of the prayer book and much of the service sounds like the practice of a small, threatened tribe huddling in the desert thousands of years ago.

 There’s a lot about Jewish practice that seems natural and essential to practitioners but might alienate the uninitiated.  Or reluctant observers like me. The head coverings. The shoulder covering prayer shawls. The standing for this (many do: why not all??!), turning right for that, covering eyes for this line, fingering prayer shawl strings (tzitzit) for that. Whew. So many prayers and practices for so many different occasions. Designed, I’ve thought, to cement the devotion of believers. But it repel skeptics, too, I surmise.

 One such example: in these early services most men put on tefillin. Leather straps with little black boxes attached (a prayer inside) that have very specific wrapping/unwrapping  procedures for arms and head. It’s deeply moving to believers, but I’ve always thought it look repellent or ridiculous. Way too much like the garb of the ultra orthodox “crazies.” There are lots of I’ll do this/not that decisions in religious practice. I understand there’s a tenuous dynamic that exists between any minority and majority community, and clinging to tradition and being true to oneself can seem preferable to “selling out” to fit in. But sometimes it strikes us skeptics as more a clinging to “guns and religion” type intransigence.

 So, if you walked in on these services cold (I was lukewarm), there’s lots that would be pretty mystifying and potentially off-putting. How could you possibly fit in? In fact, I believe I was the only new guy or gal over my month. And there had to be a decent number of temple members who have lost family members during the time I attended. Seemingly no person younger than I was doing the morning kaddish thing. And usually I was the only or 1 of 2 who didn’t put on tefillin. Men. Women usually don’t. Though one of our female rabbis did. Good for her, though I wasn’t tempted to follow.

 I could fit in and feel comfortable at these services because a) I knew people there b) I was committed to being there and c) people took care of me. I no longer bristled at the imputation (real or just in my head?) that I’m a Bad Jew and I need instruction to be a Good One. This time I felt many there had cherished Cindy, understood why I was there, and quietly welcomed me. I was willing to look/be ignorant and accept guidance.

 It was reassuring to see many of Cindy’s compatriots from the temple sisterhood there day after day too. The whole group (20 to 40 most days) was interesting to observe: lots more joking and side conversations during the service than I’d imagined. And there was the guy older than I who usually wore cycling shorts and shirt, the much older guy who sat to my right who usually shuffled in 15 minutes late, etc etc.  Lots of accomplished people and interesting stories for another writer’s version. And --- most days --- someone called out the pages so I had some sense where we were.

 I can read Hebrew if I already know the prayer or chant. So I can’t really read Hebrew anymore. Much of the service is praising God’s amazing powers, thanking him for singling out and helping Jews (don’t let anti-Semites see this!), an intricate mix of different intricate sections that over days start to fit a pattern. There are a always some bits in any prayer book that I find edifying and worth recalling; often I’m reading in one place when the service is in another. My favorite in this one:

Rabbi Schuel ben Nahmani said: We find that the Holy One created  everything  in the world; only falsehood and exaggeration were not God’s doing. People devised those on their own.

 There’s no sermon on any days, just the chanting. And different melodies for different sections. And torah reading ritual (I could spend pages on this alone) Monday and Thursday. I still have to learn why those days. I preferred the shorter days without.

 I was most fortunate to have a long time neighbor and, like Cindy, long time temple leader who I was delighted to learn (only some 30 some years later) is a regular attendee of daily morning services. Like Cindy, he has the ability I don’t to take what’s worthwhile in religious practice and ignore the rest. He credits Cindy with his reading the new alternate section of one prayer praising the Patriarchs (Abraham, Isaac, Jacob) by adding Matriarchs too.

 It’s not supposed to be used at this particular service, but a couple women who led services on a rotating schedule snuck it in. Much to my friend Rick’s and my glee. He joked about wanting to write: Minyan, the Musical. Have to decide how reverent or irreverent to be I replied. Yes he said, and some would love it, some hate it. Like so much else in life, I thought.

 There’s way more I could describe: the various “honors” during torah reading for one. Early on I got congratulated for pulling the strings to open the torah ark/cabinet. Basically, the only task our ritual director could be sure at that point I wouldn’t flub. One more key detail: I was wearing Cindy remarkable hand knit prayer shawl. Which, of course, many of her friends recognized. Once I made the mistake when taking it off at the service end of holding it to my face: way too emotional to repeat daily. Much more detail I could include, but there’s likely already too much. Ask me if you want more.

 I was asked to say a few words on the last day, right before the concluding prayers. I told people I was a most unlikely minyan attendee, etc. Grateful for this and that person’s help and Rebbe Rick’s (joke) guidance and company. Uplifted seeing Cindy’s sisterhood comrades, etc. Hoped in coming months to find an enduring way to honor her memory, etc.

 My one specific observation: I had been hearing people recite kaddish at Saturday services off and on for over 60 years.  But I’d never given a thought to the brief parts where the congregation joins in on a quick line. Just part of the practice I’d heard without really hearing. Until I was the mourner. Then, on many days when the congregation joined in…

       Y’he sh’meh rabbvo m’orach l’olam ulolmey olmayo…

 …on many days I felt my heart lifting and a wave of emotional support wash over me. This is why you should say kaddish in a minyan if at all possible. Or I hope in your tradition or life there’s some equivalent thing to bring you comfort when/if you need it. Em and I have been lighting candles at a set time each week also. That works for us too.

 The morning group skews old. But I hope that such a group is always there for anyone who needs it. I don’t want to attend any religious services daily. Or weekly. But this is my favorite service. I’ll be back. But on a day they don’t read torah. Forty minutes is plenty.

 I decided, too, that on day 30, I would take off my wedding ring. I sensed that if I didn’t tie that act to a ritual I might have a hard time doing it.