Friday, June 22, 2012

Kaddish dog days

These feel like the kaddish dog days.  It's hot, in the 90s.  Even the air conditioning in shul is not enough to provide full respite.   I'd like to wear shorts and a t-shirt, but don't feel it's appropriate, especially for one who might be asked to lead prayers.  I can get by in jeans--the shul is not so formal to look askance at that, though even in this heat there are those who wear a tie and jacket to every service.  I'm not feeling very enthusiastic about the kaddish saying business.   I'm getting to shul on time, I'm saying my prayers, I'm saying my kaddishes, I'm trying to keep my mother's memory in mind, but it all feels a bit tiring.  I'm worn out.  And yet, if I ask myself honesty, do I want this kaddish period to be over, I can't say yes.  The thought of ever more distance between my life and my mother's life carries a measure of sadness that is layered on top of the sadness that my mother is no longer with me.

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