Because I occasionally have masochistic tendencies, I spent some time earlier today reading old WP episodes from Memorial Day. The date might change, but Memorial Day is always on a Monday, ergo, it's always a blog-writing day.
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| by Theophilos Hatzimihail |
But this day is just a little different. It's the 570th anniversary of the fall of Constantinople, the seat of the Byzantine Empire to the Turks of the Ottoman Empire, thereby radically changing the landscape of Asia Minor. It is also the 70th anniversary of the day Sir Edmund Hillary reached the summit of Mount Everest, even if that news was't spread until a few days later.
And it would have been Ziggy's 70th birthday.
That seemed like a milestone kinda number. I celebrated on my own with a blackened steak (done stovetop in a cast iron pan since I cannot have a grill on my mirpeset,) fresh corn, and a beer. I did not make an angel food cake with chocolate frosting. I wasn't in the mood.
I wasn't in the mood for much.
Since his yahrzeit, on the Hebrew calendar, is next Sunday night, I went over to the cemetery; he's still there.
Last week, I finally made the arrangements to lock down the plot next to him and give up my space at Beth David. I guess I won't be watching the ponies at Belmont because I'll be spending eternity in the Land of Passive Aggressive. Assuming that when I do leave the building, Jews will still be living in these here United States. No guarantee about that.
At the moment, both Ziggy and I would both be 70. We got married when we were both 25. See, I married my best friend. Long before we were a couple, we were buddies and that saved us many times over. Life wasn't always smooth (as lots of you can attest) but somehow, we managed to muddle through. He died when we were both 56. I miss him. I will always miss him.
It is what it is. I just don't have to like it.
The Wifely Person's Tip o' the Week
If you love someone, tell them.
One day, you might just be talking to a headstone.
My heart goes out to you. Yesterday was 11 months since I lost my husband. He too, was my best friend. Right now, I can't imagine what my life will be like down the line. I miss him every day, and I always will. The sadness has not lifted. I agree - tell those in your life that you love them every day. I did with John. I am so glad I did. And I meant those words. We never went to bed angry, or parted for the day angry. No regrets.
ReplyDeleteWe live in CA, but John and his family were from Boston and that was always home in their hearts. His family's remains were scattered about the country (where they passed away). So I gathered all their remains and had them buried, side-by-side, in the MA National Cemetery (as John, his brother and his father were all veterans). His mom is there with his dad, and I will be buried with John when my time comes. It gives me peace knowing they are together, and that I will be there too one day. So I support you being buried with Ziggy one day and hope it is a comforting thought.
On another sad note, I have been reading "The Postcard" by Anne Berest. Are you aware of this book? A story of a Jewish woman's family as told by the author and based on the mountain of research her mother did into their tragic family history during WWII. Part family history, part mystery (as they try to determine who sent "The Postcard" and what it means in terms of their family's plight).
The first part of the book had me weeping. I have read a lot of stories and books about the Holocaust, but reading this story about the author's family was so personal and just gutted me. The cruelty - I can't process it - my mind and heart just melt. And yet, here we are, all these years later and antisemitism and hatred abound. It made me double my efforts to get the right wing out of power. More postcard writing, more joining action networks, etc. I don't want to ever look back and regret that I didn't try to fight. In countless stories, so many "good" people did nothing. We have a voice - it is our power - we must use it. So, yet again, thank you for this blog.
Anyway, I highly recommend the book, as painful a read as it is. I am almost finished reading - it is a book that will stay with me for life, I believe.
Best,
Kathy
First, may your husband's memory forever be for a blessing.
DeleteFor me, the first year was totally numb. Most days, I was propped up in a corner, barely able to do more than go to work and care for my father-in-law. You sound like you're ahead of me on that one.
But here's the thing: no one can tell you HOW to grieve. It's highly personal, unique to each mourner, and anyone who offers ridiculous platitudes should be gently instructed to shut up. You have to do what's right for you.
I am familiar with THE POSTCARD but tend to avoid Holocaust books these days. My own family's journey is more than enough. Several friends have recommended it, but to date, I have been loath to pick it up.
When Ziggy said he wanted to be buried here and not in my family's plot in NY, my first response was "You expect me to spend eternity in the land of Passive/Aggressive?" And his response? "Yes. Yes, I do." It was the ultimate punch line.
Since I doubt I will ever remarry (which would preclude me from being buried with either husband) and the kiddies are here, I figure I'll make it easy for them. Besides, despite 14 years of widowhood, he's still my other half.
May you find comfort amongst your own community of mourners.
sj
Be of good cheer and all that jazz.
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