The passing of a loved one is always difficult. There is the emotional distress of losing someone forever and realizing that life will never be quite the same. Then there is the stress of that which follows the death--from deciding on who will speak at the funeral service to clearing out the person's apartment, and everything in between. For some Jews, the process could roughly be: within hours figure out things with the funeral home, have all close family and friends drive/fly to be in the place of the funeral asap, hold a funeral service within 24 hours of the death, then the burial, and then have a busy shiva for several days. The period of mourning is always a lot to handle. I will explain my take on Jewish mourning a little more.
My understanding of Jewish burial and mourning ritual--at least from my specifically Reform perspective--is that there are established stages to mourning that are laid out in the Jewish religion, to me seemingly meant to encourage going through the required emotions as necessary (and having set time allowed for that), but then moving on and getting back to living.
In Judaism, we bury the deceased almost immediately. While the goal would be for burial within 24 hours, we often delay this to allow out-of-state relatives to attend. The person is generally buried in a very simple manner (simple wooden coffin, the body is not embalmed). This is tied to the concept from Genesis 3:19: "From dust you come and to dust you will return." Death is very much a natural part of life--and though that does not take away the sorrow one feels, it can bring a sense of comfort in acknowledging the interconnectedness of life. Close family members of the deceased would traditionally rip their clothing in the Jewish tradition, as an outward expression their great sorrow at the loss of a loved one (aka "this clothing means nothing in the face of my distress"). In liberal circles, it is now more common to wear a ripped black ribbon for the seven days following the death. Both of these I see as an important way of showing the world both that you are in mourning, and that you are specifically a Jewish person in mourning. At the grave, a short service will be held, and mourners will physically help fill in the grave of the person who has died.
A period known as shiva (which means "seven") is the first stage of mourning, which traditionally takes place for seven days after the death. Close family members of the deceased do what is called "sitting shiva." Usually, at least in my experience, a close relative of the person who has passed with host this at their home. Family members will share publicly the days and times at which they are sitting shiva, and then friends and associates come to pay their respect and talk with the mourners. There's always a lot of food. There's also a lot of talking. There are a lot of people. It's a lot.
Many Jewish people today shorten this so that it lasts less than seven days (which I completely understand--socializing for six days [no sitting shiva on Shabbat] sounds extremely exhausting), but the idea is still a beautiful one to me--for these days, you are allowed to be very sad. You do not go to work, you are meant to refrain from caring about your appearance over-much (one sign of a shiva is all the mirrors in the house are covered with cloths), and you are just there--comforting, being comforted. You are allowed to be sad. Technically, those paying the shiva call are even meant to wait for the mourners to speak first--or sit in silence if the mourners prefer. Mourners are not even meant to answer the door. Rather than flowers, the traditional thing to send/bring to a shiva is food, so that mourners do not even need to think about feeding themselves. The focus really is on letting close relatives grieve as they feel they must grieve, without needing to focus on anything else.
Many families will choose a charity that holds meaning for the person who has died, and then those seeking to comfort them will make donations in memory of the deceased. I think this is also a beautiful part of the process, to think that so much good can come out of something so sad. For me, it goes back into that idea of death as a natural part of life--someone meaningful has left us, but their memory leads to good things and so helps the world continue and heal.
The Mourner's Kaddish (one of the major prayers in my experience of Judaism--said at I think every Jewish service I have ever experienced) is said every day during shiva, and frequently or every day for the entire year after the death. You can read the English of the prayer at the bottom of this page: http://www.reformjudaism.org/practice/prayers-blessings/mourners-kaddish. (When this prayer is said during a regular synagogue service, people will stand up if they have had a recent death in their family, or if they are observing a yarzheit, which means the anniversary of a close relative's death.)
There is then the thirty-day period following a death called sloshim (shiva is included in this count), during which some restrictions are still in place, but largely the mourners return to their lives--returning to work, for example. This period was discussed in a post that Facebook CEO Sheryl Sandberg wrote following the death of her husband, which ended up going viral: https://www.facebook.com/sheryl/posts/10155617891025177:0. In the post, she describes the things she learned during sloshim--the wisdom she gained while in this period of deep sadness, about the kindness and meaning that can come from within, and the comfort that can come from other people. Paying a shiva call is considered a mitzvah (this has come to mean "[a religiously-motivated] good deed" in modern times, though it is actually translated as "commandment"). I would even anyone that tries to comfort a mourner is doing a mitzvah--someone who lives far away, for example, and cannot come in person can make a big impact by sending a card, or calling to talk about the loss, or just checking in with the mourner. These are all so vitally important.
Something that happens roughly 6-12 months after the death is called the "unveiling," at which point close family of the deceased gather at the gravesite to see the gravestone that has been put there. I also really like this practice--especially for those who are not extremely observant Jews, after the shiva ends, most people probably return to their normal lives. They go back to work, they resume listening to music and socializing--they might not continue observing any formal signs of mourning, but they are likely still dealing with the loss in a very sharp way. This gathering for the unveiling, for me, marks and acknowledges that continued mourning period. It is comforting to check in with everybody, to see how everybody is doing, and to finally feel a sense of closure: the grave is marked, we have done right by the person who has passed, and we honor her or his memory again--together. Following this is the one-year anniversary of the death, at which point all formal mourning restrictions are lifted.
Death changes us, regardless of when or how it happens. It is sad when it is an older person after a long and beautiful life, it is tragic when it is a young person just starting out, it is always sad. But I take comfort from the Jewish acknowledgment of this period to grieve, the place of death in the cycle of life, and the necessity to then complete mourning and move on to life. "From dust you come and to dust you will return."
I have described Jewish rituals in great depth here, but what have been your experiences with death and mourning rituals? Some religious or cultural traditions wait longer to bury the body, or may not receive callers for as long, or may have the body of the deceased cremated. What are some parts of your death and mourning rituals in which you find comfort?
I have written this post in honor of my Bubby, who was a special woman in many ways. Zichrona livracha.
Now go out and love one another.
<3,
Allyson
