07/10/2022
For many years, we davened with an incredible yomim noraim minyan at DRS, Davis Renov Stahler High School. Two things made it stand out; firstly was the beautiful and transportive voice of the chazzan, Rabbi Kmainetzky, Rosh Yeshiva of HALB (includes DRS and SKA). The second, was the kehila itself; everyone in attendance was of one mindset and joined in a communal prayer that was inspiring and uplifting.
A seat in that minyan is hard to snare and Bob and I are long time legacy ticket holders. Yet, for the last few years, ever since our grandson, Rabbi Elly Deutsch stepped up to the role of chazzan, he has a beautiful voice and the confidence and gravitas that comes with the role, we are family groupies and follow him everywhere he goes.
Elly learned a lot from Rabbi Kaminetzky, his rebbe, and from his Uncle Josh Shapiro, himself an outstanding chazzan.
I cannot describe the emotional impact of being in shul all day, fasting while immersed in the soulful beautiful prayers that are led by your own grandson. Aside from the natural pride, it is a privilege to be savored and that I keep close to my heart.
Thank you Elly.
Sometimes while praying, you simply scan the words with your eyes, maybe even mouth them, but do you ever really try to understand the content and process what it means? In the recent weeks leading up to Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, our community was struck by tragedy upon tragedy; we lost so many young, 32 year old, a recently engaged young man, and old people in their 90’s.
When you ask, “who will live and who will die?”Does that question resonate with you? Next year, when we gather again, some seats will be empty.
On the eve of Yom Kippur, we went to two shiva visits; one for a 32 year old man and the other for a man who died at 91.
People sat in silence at the home of the young man, at loss for words or having anything to add to a conversation surrounding such a devastating loss, we paid our respects in silence.
At the second visit, the man who died in his 90’s, it was so different. His daughter recounted his last day for the visitors. “My dad a Zionist with a passion for Israel, smart and sharp to the end, lived in Israel and up until February when he needed oxygen, managed well on his own. He woke up two days before Yom Kippur and told his aide, “ Call my children, I want to say goodbye, today is my last day!”
Everyone telling him to wait, that his daughter would be in Israel by Thursday, could not convince him otherwise.
So the children, grandchildren and great grandchildren, gathered on Zoom and in person to get their final Brachot and goodbye kisses. The daughter described each detail: they sang familiar lullabies, shared stories and special signage for love.
This beloved father, grandfather, great grandfather and much more to so many, peacefully slipped from this world to the next surrounded by his legacy.
All through Yom Kippur, this story played on a loop in my head. How does one earn the zchut to die on your own terms? What do you have to do to make that happen? Standing in shul, surrounded by my people, listening and participating in the magnificent liturgy led by our grandson as chazzan, I know that I must have done something right to earn this privilege.
The challenge every single day for all of us, is to make good on our promises of being and doing better. It behooves us to weigh and measure the content quality of our time and the contributions we need to make for this world to be a better place. These are very complicated times and from whatever place we find ourselves, today is a good day to keep a promise we made to fill our seats next year.
Promising all of you who share my space, “I’ve got you; I will do my best to support you.”
Shabbat Shalom and Chag Somaiach.
Comments