Through this blog, written during my year of saying kaddish for my mother, Hilda Yael Kessler, may her memory be for a blessing, I attempted to reflect on and find meaning about the internal as well as ritualistic processes of mourning. I hope others may identify with and find some measure of comfort in its words.
Sunday, January 29, 2012
9, then 10
Needing to say Kaddish means never getting to sleep in. Because of delays
I didn't get to my parents' home in Berkeley until 1:30 a.m., then got up that morning at 5:45 to make it to shul. Friday evening services were at a private home but only 9 men showed for the afternoon Mincha prayer, one short of the number needed to say kaddish. One of the many complexities of Kaddish: it's a deeply personal obligation, yet fulfulling it is wholly dependent upon the support of others. Feeling frustrated, peeved and having given up hope of getting a minyan for Ma'ariv, someone came in late, thus completing the minyan. It was as if Eliyahu himself (Elijah the Prophet) had come to the rescue.
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