This is an essay I recently submitted to a Jewish website about my difficulty in finding meaning in the Jewish High Holidays after the death of my daughter. Unfortunately, it was not accepted because the holidays have already passed and it was “too late to run.” So I share it with you here…
The Jewish High Holidays are often a time of quiet introspection for me and I tend to feel a little emotional as I recount my blessings and shortcomings of the previous year, but this time around it was particularly difficult. This year had not gone as I had planned. I had expected to celebrate the Jewish New Year with my husband, my son, and our new baby, but five months ago I said hello and goodbye to my beautiful daughter as she died in my arms just moments after her birth. This Rosh Hashanah my pain was too fresh to see any blessings beyond my grief. My rabbi talked about Rosh Hashanah being the birthday of the world, but this year I didn’t feel much like celebrating. I fought back the tears as I tried to sing along with Avinu Malkeinu and I barely managed to choke out the words to the Mourner’s Kaddish after hearing my sweet baby girl’s name read aloud.
I left Rosh Hashanah services feeling more alone and lost than I had ever felt before. The familiar melodies that used to bring me a feeling of comfort and a sense of belonging had lost their meaning. I didn’t feel like singing God’s praises or giving prayers of thanks. I was certain that I hadn’t made the cut last Yom Kippur and for some reason, I hadn’t been written in that magical book of life. I tried searching my soul for a possible reason why. Why had I been punished with this burden of heartbreak and grief? Why did my child have to die? What had I possibly done in the previous year to warrant such suffering? All my answers came up short. Nobody deserved this.
I spent the days between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur feeling angry and completely alienated from my Judaism and from God. There was no way I was going to repent for my sins. There was no way I was going to attend Yom Kippur services and ask for God’s forgiveness after everything I had been through because I was still waiting for my apology. I felt like a child in a standoff but I was steadfast in my decision not to participate in any of this worthless ritual. At least I was until I heard Kol Nidre, the familiar tune we all grew up hearing on the evening before Yom Kippur.
A few nights before the actual service, a friend of mine posted a video of herself singing Kol Nidre. Before she started she spoke about forgiveness, and when she opened her mouth and started singing my heart exploded. Tears poured out of me, carrying with them the anger and sadness and resentment that I held on to for five months. The entire time she sang my body shuddered as I sobbed, and long after she finished wails of grief came screaming out of my mouth. I cried until my tears ran dry and until I found enough relief from my anger to accept that my apology from God was never going to come. Then I cried a little more when I realized that the apology and forgiveness I really needed most was from myself.
I have spent the last five months blaming myself for my daughter’s death. I have been angry at my body for letting us down, for being unable to sustain her, unable to give her life. I have spent most nights awake in my bed trying to figure out where it all went wrong or trying to figure out what I should have done differently to save my baby girl. I know the answer will never come. It is time to move forward. I never made it to synagogue this year, and my relationship with Judaism and with God remains complicated, but this is why on Yom Kippur I chose to apologize to myself; I remain hopeful that by next year I’ll finally have the strength to forgive.
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Remember when I told you that I told the newly ordained priest that came to see me at Pres/St Lukes his “boss” was a dick? He had the charisma to say that”at times like this I am inclined to agree” . I’m not sure I have ever come to terms with him about this as I think I took solace from the prayer I gave you. He was only on loan……I never got to teach him anything as he was here and gone so fast, but he was Gods own as well and there are those who have gone before looking out for him. He and Ava are playing now………