My great-aunt Joad died a few days ago, of wicked old age. I didn’t record a kaddish for her tonight. Instead, I recorded some traditional shofar calls.
This is the final daily podcast recording of “Kaddish” for the yearlong “kaddish in two-part harmony” project that Mira and I began a lunar year ago, on 7 November 2010.
Thoughts of our project’s beginnings brought my beloved Nanc to mind, and Mira’s Galina.
With only a few more daily Kaddishim to go in our project, Mira and I appreciated the chance to make a Kaddish recording together with our gathered beloved.
Here’s another missing Kaddish recording. I made this recording—I swear I did, mumbling into my iPhone, exhausted, late at night after a Thanksgiving feast and afterward sleeping through a movie. However, the next day, my new iPhone arrived, and I forgot to get the recording off my old iPhone before wiping it and turning it over to Dad.
Mira said it really well—our yearlong project of mourning together in this “kaddish in two-part harmony” project has done the job. It has worked so well that we both feel good and done with mourning itself. Our grief is replaced with happiness, and there are moments when that feels—well, sad.
My dad plays horn on this Kaddish, nearly a year after doing his first stint as the guest hornist for a daily Kaddish, again while visiting for Thanksgiving.
Today’s Kaddish is for David Mohr’s dog, Kimba.
Today is Phyllis Greenwood’s Yahrtzeit.
This is only the third time I completely forgot to record a daily kaddish during the year—the first time was during an exhausting business trip to Tokyo, Beijing, and Shenzhen. The second and third were here in Montréal.