It has been a
difficult week: Barry’s mother died last night. In keeping with the Jewish
tradition to expedite the transition to the final resting place, we were able
to arrange for the funeral to be early this afternoon.
She was over 94 years
old, most of them fairly healthy, and lived to see five great-grandchildren. She
had suffered a stroke about two weeks ago that left her unable to communicate
or eat or drink even small amounts. She had always been clear that she did not
want to live this way, so unlike the deaths of younger friends over the past
couple of years, in this case I can truly say “blessed is the righteous judge.”
As I sit here waiting
for our daughters and Barry’s brother and his two daughters to arrive, I cannot
help but think how seldom all of us are together, and to try to see something
positive in everyone gathering to share and process this loss in our lives.
Love,
Rebecca
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