Words of Faith: Times of change and remembrance

We are well and truly into the new secular year. And as we look forward to what this new year brings, there are also moments of memory of the year gone by.

A year ago, my mother died. She had dementia – Alzheimers. For the most part, I said goodbye to the things that made her my mom over the years preceding her death. She and I both fought the rotting of her mind. It was a horrible, losing battle. Her personality and memories faded away. It hurt. That fading part hurt me more than anything. We both said numerous hateful things to each other, but I was the one who remembered both sides of those exchanges.

And carried the guilt of my unkind words.

Did my faith help me then?

Yes, in non-obvious ways. I had counseling, which taught me coping mechanisms. I talked with God a lot, asking to find strength and patience within myself.

During Mom’s final years, my faith let me experience the mitzvah honoring my parent, simply by being there and taking care of her. After dementia erased her memories, I was "just" a person she liked enough not to aim her dinner plates at me. That time let me find the patience to take comfort in her repetitive conversations. My faith encouraged me to extend the mitzvah by reaching out to other residents at the facility, listening to them tell stories of their lives.

After her death, faith surrounded me like the softest of blankets, through my community. I was grateful for that community at the first service after her passing, and it was time to say Kaddish. For Jews, it is a tradition to recite the Mourner's Kaddish or Mourner's Prayer at each service. This is done in honor of our people who have passed, be they loved ones, and others for whom there is no one left to say this prayer of praise. The Kaddish does not mention death, but praises God and prays for peace. It reminds us that there are broader horizons in life than we know. I stood with my temple family that Friday evening and felt support in the voices of others who had gone through this before me.

Jews also have the tradition of Yarzheit. It is the observance of the anniversary of the death of a loved one. Yarzheit is a Yiddish term, meaning “a year's time." The first biblical reference to this is found in Judges (11:40) Yarzheits are usually observed for parents, siblings and, God forbid, children and spouses. It is traditional to light a candle in honor and memory, and some people will make a charitable donation on behalf of the deceased.

At Sabbath services, her name is recited as well. Over time, the immediate pain of loss blends with the gratitude of having had that person in your life. That time set aside, for deliberate remembering, becomes a moment of comfort, within a supportive community.

We do live in time of “extraordinary change.” It’s around us on every level. Yet, there are constants and comforts to be found as well, in faith or spirituality, our families and communities. Death is a constant, an inevitability for us all. Faith encourages us to retain and share the memories of those who have gone before us, pausing at the anniversary of the passing. We pause to remember and perhaps to celebrate our fortune in knowing that individual.

By honoring and continuing the memory of the blessing that was their life, we take action to make real the Hebrew prayer at a time of bereavement, “Zichronom Livracha” – may their memory be for a blessing.

This story was originally published January 15, 2016 at 2:16 PM with the headline "Words of Faith: Times of change and remembrance."