I got home late after two weeks in Iowa and two flights across country. Mira kindly fed me comfort food (“Grampa’s eggs,” a recipe I’m forbidden to share or even describe, but she’s not going to stop me from saying they’re fantastic) and then drove me home, where I had just barely enough energy after greeting my chocolate lab and three Siamese cats to mumble a Kaddish and then fall into bed.
kaddish in two-part harmonyA conversation between an anthropologist and a musician along with a growing virtual minyan, on themes of death and dying, grief, ritual, and the interplay between music and words.
- about beit malkhut
- about the kaddish project
- seymour fromer z”l
- tzaddik stories