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.
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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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