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.
Tag: kaddish
and death is so much closer than it was—a kaddish for rebecca fromer
The house is empty. I’m not sure what to do and death is so much closer than it was— The phone isn’t ringing starting 5 AM and every ten minutes or so thereafter Even the delusions have stopped having culminated in one final coup de gras She ascended, ascended to Jerusalem. I got calls from what…
guest kaddish from David Mohr—for Kimba
This is for Kimba. It might seem strange to have a kaddish for a dog, but she really was a part of the family. For more than 15 years, she was my companion. I lived with her longer than anyone except my mother and Kimba saw me through the heartache of three relationships as well…
body, mind, and spirit or wobble, falter, and fall
There’s a class that I teach called Body, Mind, Spirit. Pretty funny, actually, to call it that but I couldn’t name the course what it really is: Integral Transformative Practice. I mean, nobody knows what that is, right? And what would that look like on a university transcript? But Body, Mind, Spirit is a reasonable…
daily kaddish: for kirstin, in words
I asked Mira to record text for a Kaddish for an acquaintance of mine who died ridiculously young, Kirstin Paisley. I’ll write more about her tomorrow.
I’m all kaddished-out, she said… — the real secret of mourning rituals…
I know I brought this up on my last post — the one on suicides — about just feeling all kaddished-out. And then, hearing of Randy’s suicide, feeling that there was more to say. Much more. But then even that was not sustainable. I mean, here am I — Dr. Doom, as my housemate calls…
daily kaddish: memorial day weekend, i
First of a kaddish trilogy for Memorial Day Weekend—a Kaddish for all those whom we remember this weekend.
daily kaddish: nose surgery, percocet, and pants
Today is Candy Pants’ Yahrtzeit, but we’re going to have to mark that tomorrow—I’m in too much pain from nose surgery today, which is oddly fitting.
a kaddish for disappearing islands
This book caught my attention today and I couldn’t put it down. Plunked down my little piece of plastic and carried the irresistible treasure back to Brooklyn. It’s called: Atlas of Remote Islands: Fifty Islands I Have Never Set Foot On and Never Will by Judith Schalansky. Translated from the German by Christine Lo. Beautifully…
another kaddish for japan’s daughters and sons: on scale-slipping and tragedy
A kaddish for all the sons and daughters Japan has lost and will continue losing in the aftermath of this devastation, whose enormous universal scale I cannot comprehend, whose personal scale is also enormous in its minute detail. On how we use scale-slipping to cope with tragedy. A reply to Mira’s kaddish one daughter at a time.