Mourner’s Kaddish–In loving memory of my dad

This week I said the Mourner’s Kaddish for my dad, Morris Bruck. He passed away last Friday at the age of 92. He died at home. He had coronavirus in the spring. I wrote about the beginning of this part of his journey here. He made it through, but never really bounced back. It’s hard to bounce at 92.

Good-by, Sweet Dad

Morris was a really good man. Kind, gentle, quiet. He was an artist–a sculptor, a painter. And he always loved music. When he was growing up, his family–recent immigrants to this country–was poor and couldn’t afford instruments or music lessons. But he played the harmonica. And in his 60s and 70s, he played in a harmonica orchestra, taught himself to read music, learned African drumming, and how to play the piano.

In his work life, he was a psychologist who worked at State hospitals and later for the VA. He didn’t talk much to me about his work, but he was a good listener, and I’m sure he helped his patients.

Gratitude and sadness

I feel so grateful to have had him in my life all of these years. And until a year or so ago, he was healthy and sharp. I miss him! And in another way, I feel his presence so close to me and find a lot of comfort in that.

Besides that, I’m exhausted! I find I can’t do a whole lot this past week. My focus has been off since this whole pandemic thing started–and especially since my dad got sick.

Mourner’s Kaddish–remote version

Because of the pandemic, my family couldn’t gather together. My mom chose not to go to the cemetery because the ground is hard for her to navigate. So we all watched the rabbi give a eulogy and conduct the service. She did a lovely job–she’d spoken to some of us and capture a lot of my dad’s good qualities and shared some stories we’d shared with her.

Afterwards, the family gathered together on Zoom. It was good and important to spend some time together–and I was thankful for the technology that allowed us to do that.

I’d spent a long time on FaceTime with my mom a few days before getting her set up on Zoom–and we did it!

The Mourner’s Kaddish

Almost 20 years ago, I did a series of paintings on the Mourner’s Kaddish.

I was fascinated by this prayer that we say when someone dies and on the anniversary of their death. Mostly because I realized that it actually does not mention death.

The non-traditional translation

Here is part of one translation. It’s an “interpretive” translation by Rabbi Zalman Shachter-Shalomi. One of my teachers from many years ago and founder of the Jewish Renewal movement.

יְהֵא שְׁמֵהּ רַבָּא מְבָרַךְ לְעָלַם וּלְעָלְמֵי עָלְמַיָּא:	“May that immense power residing in God’s great name flow freely into our world and worlds beyond.”
יִתְבָּרַךְ, וְיִשְׁתַּבַּח, וְיִתְפָּאֵר, וְיִתְרוֹמֵם, וְיִתְנַשּׂא, וְיִתְהַדָּר, וְיִתְעַלֶּה, וְיִתְהַלָּל, שְׁמֵהּ דְקֻדְשָׁא בְּרִיךְ הוּא.   לְעֵלָּא מִן כָּל בִּרְכָתָא וְשִׁירָתָא, תֻּשְׁבְּחָתָא וְנֶחֱמָתָא, דַּאֲמִירָן בְּעָלְמָא, וְאִמְרוּ אָמֵן׃	May that Great Name, that sacred energy, be shaped and make effective and be acknowledged and be given the right honor and be seen as beautiful and elevating and bring jubilation.   Way beyond our input of worshipful song and praise, which we express in this world, As we confirm our agreement and hope by saying *AMEN*.
יְהֵא שְׁלָמָה רַבָּא מִן שְׁמַיָּא וְחַיִּים טוֹבִים וְעַל כָּל יִשְֹרָאֵל, וְאִמְרוּ אָמֵן׃	May that endless peace that heaven can release for us bring about the good life for us and for all Israel As we express our agreement and hope by saying: *AMEN*.
עוֹשֶׂה שָׁלוֹם בִּמְרוֹמָיו הוּא יַעֲשֶׂה בְּרַחֲמָיו שָׁלוֹם עָלֵינוּ וְעַל כָּל יִשְׂרָאֵל וְעַל כָּל יוֺשְׁבֵי תֵבֶל	You, who harmonize it all on the highest planes – bring harmony and peace to us, to all Israel and all sentient beings
וְאִמְרוּ אָמֵן׃	As we express our agreement and hope by saying: *AMEN*

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The Paintings

As you can see–nothing about death. That is what fascinates me still–that contrast between saying that final good-bye and this prayer about the power of God’s name inspired me. I painted the backgrounds in bright colors and then painted over them in thick paint.

Then I scratched through the paint to let the spiritual fire shine through into the darkness of this world. With a candle burning on top–like Plato’s cave, the light of the candle is just a reflection of the light of the spirit.

Poetry Friday

I was so excited two Friday’s ago that I had started October Poetry Writing Month. Even though my dad was in the hospital for the only time in his life, I wrote poems that first week. He was so happy to come home! And I kept writing. But after my dad’s death, I stopped. I kept drawing for Inktober–and I’ve been posting those on Instagram. The drawing feels like a connection to my dad. It soothes me.

Maybe next week I’ll share those poems. But for this week, memories of my dad are all I want to share. And the Mourner’s Kaddish, too–which is, I suppose, a poem.

Janice Scully hosts this week and shares some lovely thoughts about the changing seasons.

Thank you for stopping by!

Wishing you a wonderful week–and wonderful people in your life.

xoxo