The Shiva (Week Of Mourning)

I want to write about the shiva week but have no idea exactly what I want to say. You already know what shiva is from this previous post so I don't have to explain it. I'm just going to write and see what emerges.

Of course there are the usual shiva stereotypes as with any social gathering. I'm not going to describe the ones I spotted at our shiva as everyone came out of kindness and love and there's an awkwardness around death that can affect people's behaviour despite themselves. Having said that, no one came too early or stayed too late. No rabbis or other learned friends gave long or boring sermons.

My sister's community works like a well oiled machine with a big heart. The friend arranging a meal rota so that home cooked suppers were delivered every day for all nine of us, called to ask if she could also arrange lunches as too many people wanted to contribute.

The 'rules' of mourning are not rules but customs that have evolved into strong tradition. This means you get a lot of flexibility if you are the sort of person who is open to flexibility. I am and so is my mother.

The traditional meal on returning to the shiva house after the funeral is a hard boiled egg, a bagel (with optional butter) and some pickled or salted herring. I'm guessing here that the round foods symbolize the circle of life as does the fish (fish being a fertility symbol) and the pickled or salted aspect symbolizes your sadness and salty tears. I also assume that this was the traditional light lunch or breakfast in the shtetl and it stuck.

You are supposed to wear the same clothes every day and not to wash for a week. This can be interpreted as wearing the same item that was ripped at the funeral. Our ripped garments were cardigans and we wore them every day. My mother and I (and DD) returned to her flat every night where we showered and returned the next day with fresh clothes under the cardigan. I can't speak for the others, I didn't notice.

I also developed an obsession with washing my hands as so many people said, "I won't kiss you as I'm a bit fluey so I'll just shake hands."

There is a mourner's payer, the Kaddish, that the children say for their dead parent (or for themselves, I'm not quite sure), Traditionally only men said this prayer, three times a day for 11 months, in a minyan (a quorum of 10 men who pray together). Nowadays many women say it as well. My sister wanted to say it in a minyan. The the first opportunity for a service at home during the shiva was the afternoon service on Sunday. They started counting around for a minyan. We had five men over the age of Bar Mitzva in the house, they have a neighbour with two sons, and there were two male visitors. We women didn't count at all and were expected to stand at the back. At that point I decided I would be saying my Kaddish alone and not in any exclusively men's minyan. (Btw, there are many enlightened Jewish communities that run with complete egality of the sexes but my sister belongs to a more orthodox community.)

There were pleasant surprises when two friends from Israel turned up as they happened to be in London. An old boyfriend from when I was 17 and I hadn't seen since (although we are fb friends). Friends from my childhood, schooldays, youth club, college years... I have in the past not made it to a shiva, thinking no one would mind as plenty of others would be there and I'm not so close to the person anymore. I've re-thought this after sitting shiva myself. It's so wonderful to see your whole life pop up and come to comfort you. Along with cousins we hadn't seen in years - we found ourselves slipping back into the past and retelling it with warm nostalgia.

DD was taken out by various friends with younger children every day. She had a blast and somehow managed to come home each day with a present in hand. However, her biggest treat was when my b-i-l taught her how to do the washing up and allowed her to wash up whenever there was something in the sink. She said to me, "it's a shame we don't have something like this at home." She pointed to the dish drainer next to the sink. Me: "we do have something like that darling, I'll point it out to you when we get home."

What can I tell you, we had a good shiva.