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Our Judaism forum has several mourners who have lost a parent this year. Rachel976 and Rosends (and for anyone else whom I'm unaware of), I'd like to express to you my sorrow at you losing a parent this year and wish you comfort among the mourners of Zion and Yerushalayim.
I too know the incalculable sadness and loss, as my father passed away two weeks ago on Shabbos morning. I have found, however, that the Jewish laws and customs of mourning, created by chazal (our sages of old), have been a tremendous support and nachama (comfort) for me. Even my siblings and my mother, who are only nominally observant, have been saying kaddish on Friday nights, and they too have found comfort in our ways of observance.
If you will all permit me, I'd love to say over a few things about my father. I must admit that after a week of sitting shiva in my home, and telling "stories" about my father, to the dozens of visitors who came to be menacheim avel (visit the survivor to provide comfort), I have already come to see him in a new and different light than when he was still alive. Thank you chazal, for allowing me to sit shiva.
My father grew up in a mostly observant home, however, he lost his mother when he was 8 and was sent to live with less religious relatives off and on until he went off to college and met my mother. Very tough childhood. But he never relented.
His mother was in her 40s when she passed away, as was my dad's brother. Both died of heart disease. My father had his first heart attack and bypass surgery in his 40s as well. Then came a steady decline in health for the next 35 years. I remember as a teen hearing my father had 5 years to live, after his bypass surgery. Decades later, I learned what the doctor meant was his bypass surgery would only last 5 years, but his heart could create new capillaries and he could survive much longer, which BH he did. I worried every day for 35 years that he would suddenly drop dead of a heart attack. My stomach would drop every time the phone rang at an unusual hour. In the end, he died peacefully in a hospice, fully lucid until the end. 35 years I worried, and for nothing. That's not even how he "went." Just goes to show - Hashem runs the world. Our constant worrying is just a lack of emuna (faith) in Hashem.
I have had so much to learn from how my father fought to stay alive - how precious every second of life really is. In hospice, my father refused to take pain medications, even though he was racked with pain, so that he could remain "present" for the end of his life. He spent his last 5 days surrounded by his wife and all his children. My dad expressed all his regrets to us. He rebuked each of us (in small ways), much like the Avos (forefathers) and Moshe did with their children/shvatim. Friday afternoon, he said Viduey (Jewish "last rights") on his own. And Shabbos morning, he suddenly awoke, told my mother he was going to die "right now," and then he peacefully went.
I used to always lament that in my family of birth, there was only 1 Torah Observant Yid. Now there's 2, as death brings a total knowledge and understanding of emes (truth). Dad, I'm saying kaddish, in a minyan, morning and night for you. I love you and hope you can see how much your children have gained from you.
may you be comforted among the mourners of Zion and Jerusalem.
Min hashamayim tenuchamu, may you be comforted from heaven.
Losing a parent is difficult. It makes us confront all sorts of uncomfortable truths about our families and ourselves. Hold tight to the stories and make sure you lay the groundwork for a continuation of his and your own legacy.
Flipflop, I am so very sorry for your loss. May you be comforted among the mourners of Zion and Jerusalem. (And thank you for your words of comfort to me, as well.)
The loss of a parent is indeed very difficult, and if I can be of any emotional support to you, having been through it myself not too long ago, please don't hesitate to DM me. If nothing else, I'm here to "listen" - and understand.
I found mentally revisiting the good times - family vacations, holiday celebrations, and the like - was helpful as it got me away from the focus of the last days and onto the wonderful life Hashem granted my dad. Similarly, although your father suffered with health problems for decades, how fortunate that Hashem granted him and your family all those years to learn from and love one another.
Thanks all for your words of comfort, here and by private DM. If it's not too much trouble for you all, I'd like to share a few other thoughts as I have them. Some of what has comforted me, as was said above, is thinking about the good times and focusing on those. However, my father had a very dramatic last few seconds on earth, leaving behind a "proof" that there is indeed an afterlife. I need to work up the courage to share it with you all. Really, two weeks later, and I'm still processing it all.
I will say, however, that when he was nifter (Hebrew or Aramaic for "removed", as in his soul was removed from his body), we were all relieved that he was no longer in pain. The removal of his soul from his body, while so incredibly sad for all of us who are left behind, is truly a joyous occasion for the soul (or at least after burial - it is said that from the moment of dying until burial, the neshama "floats" or stays close by the body, in a state of great confusion. Only after a proper burial can the neshama move on to what comes next - that's a public request that all Jews use a Chevra Kadisha, ie burial society, to ensure the proper care of the body until burial).
Thanks all for your words of comfort, here and by private DM. If it's not too much trouble for you all, I'd like to share a few other thoughts as I have them. Some of what has comforted me, as was said above, is thinking about the good times and focusing on those. However, my father had a very dramatic last few seconds on earth, leaving behind a "proof" that there is indeed an afterlife. I need to work up the courage to share it with you all. Really, two weeks later, and I'm still processing it all.
I will say, however, that when he was nifter (Hebrew or Aramaic for "removed", as in his soul was removed from his body), we were all relieved that he was no longer in pain. The removal of his soul from his body, while so incredibly sad for all of us who are left behind, is truly a joyous occasion for the soul (or at least after burial - it is said that from the moment of dying until burial, the neshama "floats" or stays close by the body, in a state of great confusion. Only after a proper burial can the neshama move on to what comes next - that's a public request that all Jews use a Chevra Kadisha, ie burial society, to ensure the proper care of the body until burial).
TFF, please think of this forum as your home. Whatever you wish to share with others here, please feel free. You certainly don't need my permission, and I'm only saying this to set you at ease. We're a community here of Jews and friends of Jews.
Grieving is a process, and I want you to know that you are in a safe place to talk about your very Jewish religious experience with your father's passing.
Our Judaism forum has several mourners who have lost a parent this year. Rachel976 and Rosends (and for anyone else whom I'm unaware of), I'd like to express to you my sorrow at you losing a parent this year and wish you comfort among the mourners of Zion and Yerushalayim.
I too know the incalculable sadness and loss, as my father passed away two weeks ago on Shabbos morning. I have found, however, that the Jewish laws and customs of mourning, created by chazal (our sages of old), have been a tremendous support and nachama (comfort) for me. Even my siblings and my mother, who are only nominally observant, have been saying kaddish on Friday nights, and they too have found comfort in our ways of observance.
If you will all permit me, I'd love to say over a few things about my father. I must admit that after a week of sitting shiva in my home, and telling "stories" about my father, to the dozens of visitors who came to be menacheim avel (visit the survivor to provide comfort), I have already come to see him in a new and different light than when he was still alive. Thank you chazal, for allowing me to sit shiva.
My father grew up in a mostly observant home, however, he lost his mother when he was 8 and was sent to live with less religious relatives off and on until he went off to college and met my mother. Very tough childhood. But he never relented.
His mother was in her 40s when she passed away, as was my dad's brother. Both died of heart disease. My father had his first heart attack and bypass surgery in his 40s as well. Then came a steady decline in health for the next 35 years. I remember as a teen hearing my father had 5 years to live, after his bypass surgery. Decades later, I learned what the doctor meant was his bypass surgery would only last 5 years, but his heart could create new capillaries and he could survive much longer, which BH he did. I worried every day for 35 years that he would suddenly drop dead of a heart attack. My stomach would drop every time the phone rang at an unusual hour. In the end, he died peacefully in a hospice, fully lucid until the end. 35 years I worried, and for nothing. That's not even how he "went." Just goes to show - Hashem runs the world. Our constant worrying is just a lack of emuna (faith) in Hashem.
I have had so much to learn from how my father fought to stay alive - how precious every second of life really is. In hospice, my father refused to take pain medications, even though he was racked with pain, so that he could remain "present" for the end of his life. He spent his last 5 days surrounded by his wife and all his children. My dad expressed all his regrets to us. He rebuked each of us (in small ways), much like the Avos (forefathers) and Moshe did with their children/shvatim. Friday afternoon, he said Viduey (Jewish "last rights") on his own. And Shabbos morning, he suddenly awoke, told my mother he was going to die "right now," and then he peacefully went.
I used to always lament that in my family of birth, there was only 1 Torah Observant Yid. Now there's 2, as death brings a total knowledge and understanding of emes (truth). Dad, I'm saying kaddish, in a minyan, morning and night for you. I love you and hope you can see how much your children have gained from you.
theflipflop - Losing a parent at any age can be difficult. My condolences to you and your family....
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