#yartzheit

[i-aint-even-bovvered]

Thinking about my grandfather, whose yartzheit is tonight. He fought in WWII, and then came home to have three boys, became a lawyer, then a judge, and had PTSD nightmares until the end. One date he hated on the calendar was Tisha B'Av. He said it was a "holiday of defeat." He hated how we had a whole holiday of crying lamentation. By the end of his life, he was suffering from Parkinson's and could barely speak. Not sure if he even knew what day it was, but he died the day before Tisha B'Av. I like to think he did that out of spite, so he wouldn't have to see the day again.

[jewish-privilege]

“These things I remember and pour out my soul within me...”

It’s been one year since eleven Jews were murdered in a Pittsburgh Synagogue on Shabbat for being Jewish. 

May the memories of Joyce Fienberg, Richard Gottfried, Rose Mallinger, Jerry Rabinowitz, Cecil Rosenthal, David Rosenthal, Bernice Simon, Sylvan Simon, Daniel Stein, Melvin Wax, and Irving Younger be a blessing.

“...אֵ֤לֶּה אֶזְכְּרָ֨ה וְאֶשְׁפְּכָ֬ה עָלַ֨י נַפְשִׁ֗י כִּ֤י אֶֽעֱבֹ֨ר”

[noirwhals]

I feel really really loved here right now. I'm actually kind of close to crying.

This weekend is the anniversary of my cousin's death, which strikes especially hard because she was, like me, eighteen and in her first year of college when she died.

As per Jewish tradition, you are supposed to burn a yartzheit candle for 24 hours to commemorate the dead.

I cannot, due to fire safety restrictions in the dorms.

When I was musing this aloud, my friend got up, left, and came back.

She came back bearing an electric candle, so that I may still honor my cousin's memory.