Shedding More Tears

There are two young women in my community who lost their mother quite unexpectedly just over a month ago.  They are both married and moved away, but their mother was so much a part of the Jewish life here that they came back for the holidays in her last home.

On Sunday, during our monthly Tehillim gathering, the eldest daughter told us a story of how she connected to her mother this Rosh HaShanah.  Tearful over her loss, and advised by a wise woman to do so, the young woman just started talking to her mother, pouring out her heart about how much she missed her and wished they could still be together.

The first day of Rosh HaShanah, after prayers, another member of the congregation came up to the oldest daughter with an old Mazchor, or prayer book for the holiday.  Inside was her mother's name, and throughout the book, handwritten notes by her mother about the significance of various prayers.  Amazing indeed, as all Mazchorim are locked together in a cabinet all year and are used by both men and women alike.  That this Mazchor ended up on the women's side of the room was a miracle in itself.

This daughter told us, through tears, that her mother had indeed been with her that Rosh HaShanah, and that her heart felt wishes had been, in part, answered.

Those of us listening who also lost mothers cried with her.  But we are all limited.  The book, while satisfying, is not a mother's touch, her voice, her smile.  Time makes the physical distance fade, but it's always there.