This is the sound of me wailing. Again. Kaddish project’s over, but death does not just up and disappear. So. Here we are again. Only this time it’s a bit different. They’re killing you as we speak. They’re cutting you and hacking you. Albeit gently and with reverence. But still. Limb by limb. Loudly with […]
A kaddish for Talia’s neighbor, murdered in his house this morning; may he rest in peace, and may his poor widow find peace herself somehow too.
Tonight’s kaddish, using Mira’s text for a household engulfed in sadness, wishing blessings on the house, is for Amanda Simmons
Tomorrow Mira and I will collaborate live to record a proper Kaddish for Amanda Simmons and the guy who shot them both.
I was writing about books. Letting go of books. A preemptive kaddish for books turns out I couldn’t part with. The occasion was my daughter’s return from China. And driving up, by way of the Coast, from L.A. where her flight landed to S.F. for a short visit before heading East. I already wrote this […]
Today’s Kaddish is for the ninety-two killed by a Christian fundamentalist in Norway on Friday, and it combines Kogan’s “Kaddish” with the Norwegian national anthem, “Ja, vi elsker dette landet.”
A kaddish for a little boy who was excited to walk home alone for the first time, whose walk ended in senseless tragedy. A kaddish for all the children whose good days turn horribly, unaccountably tragic, and for their families who will never, ever understand why.
They offed themselves. Both of them, together. She’s pissed, and devastated, and who wouldn’t be? But I can’t help admiring their decision, even as I share her grief and anger.
In the copious, loud discussion that has following in the wake of the shootings in Arizona last week, what has gotten lost is that six people died. Six people died, and we don’t even know their names. May their memories be a blessing to those who knew them. May their memories not be wasted by the rest of us thinking that their tragedy is fodder for our careless arguments.