My father called me with the itinerary for my last minute trip to Chicago. He told me that by visiting my aunt before dying, I was doing what is known in the Jewish faith as a 'mitzvah'. I remember from sunday school at the temple that it means I'm doing a good deed.
My aunt Ilene has been dying for a while now. Until recently though, I don't think she was aware. She fought and fought; the doctor's told her soon...soon. Here it is years later, four years after her estimated time of departure; until this weekend she was optimistic, but she's really dying now. She knows it.
I remember at my grandfather's funeral, I didn't feel comfortable wearing my yamika. It is a rounded bowl-like piece of cloth that's placed on your head during services out of respect. I was raised Jewish, but it is not my choice to be Jewish. My father asked me to put it on, but I was torn. I felt I owed it to my grandfather, but I respected the faith enough not to pretend. This was before my aunt was aware of her own mortality, her face was still plain, but her mouth always on the brink of laughter. Her tight curls bounced when she looked over at me.
"Wear it on your knee," she said.
"On my what?"
"On your knee, goof."
I looked to my right, and her yamika lay comfortably on her left knee. "Is that allowed?" I said.
"I sure hope so," she said smiling. "It's respectful."
She was never very Jewish either. Less so in these last six months, she actually learned to feel a certain disdain for a God that would put her and her children through so much. She doesn't really even want a funeral...but I will be there this weekend, hell or high water. I'm taking a flight from the Cincinnati airport Saturday and coming back Sunday.
It's interesting to me how priorities change. Grad school anticipation, my sister's mess of a life, my own mess of a life for that matter; they all suddenly feel more like details in a story where the characters matter most. And when one of them is suddenly clinging to breath, the world seems so much bigger...angrier, but the important decisions seem so much easier to make.
I'm not doing a good deed by going to Chicago this weekend. I'm not putting my life on hold for someone I love. I'm living my life. I'm wearing my yamika on my knee, rather than on my head. I love her for reminding me of that, and I will miss her.
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3 comments:
"I felt I owed it to my grandfather, but I respected the faith enough not to pretend."
I've been accused of disrespect for not honoring the traditional. In my predominantly Christian family, it was considered a sacrilege that I chose Hank Williams's "I Saw the Light" for my father's funeral. Neither he nor I are Christian, but we both love Hank, and I knew my father would appreciate someone clapping their hands and tapping their feet (that would be me) while we ushered him out.
I didn't do it to stir things up. Rather, I had to find a way to respect them without misrepresenting him.
I hope your gesture is understood.
Thanks for sharing this. It's a beautiful piece. So good that while I was reading it I actually forgot about all the grad school anticipation. But now I remember, so...CONGRATS on Pitt! (I still haven't heard a word from any of the schools I applied to...)
Thanks for the comments you all. I was able to spend time with my aunt before she died peacefully this weekend...if I had not flown in, I would have regretted it. Has a way of taking your mind off of waiting.
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