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This Shabbat, we celebrate the last day of Passover and observe Yizkor, a service of memory of our loved ones who have died. In case you did not know, Tevye, the long suffering milkman from Anetevka died just one month before Passover. I am, of course, referring to Chaim Topol, who was known to most everyone by the name, Topol. How well known was Topol? Well, the Jerusalem Post once wrote that Topol was; “Israel’s most famous export since the Jaffa Orange”.

If you were to close your eyes right now and listen with you heart, you just might be able to hear Topol’s famous rendition of, “If I were a rich man”. And by the way, Topol was a rich man. No, I don’t know if he was rich or not in the monetary sense, although I suspect he was, but he was rich in that he had a good name and when the Talmud asks the question, “who is rich” we find that it is the one that is happy with what he/she has.

Topol used whatever wealth he had to help those in need, especially children as he helped build a special camp and fund for those children which he considered to be one of, if not the most important thing in his life, even more important than his acting on stage and screen. Then again, it was what he did with his life that enabled him to do so much for those little ones. Sadly, the fiddler on the roof is no longer with us. The strings of the fiddle have fallen silent. The story of Haim Topol’s life has been sealed but I am certain that his contribution to Israeli culture will live on for generations, he greatly loved the land of Israel, and the people of Israel loved him in return.

There is a question that Topol posed in his role as Tevye that asks his beloved Golda; “Do you love me”? Now there’s a question that comes up a lot when we are dealing with life and with death. “Do you love me”? Golda’s response is wonderful she talks about all the things she has done over there years together to show her commitment to their marriage and yes, to show her care and love for him.

I have seen so much love flow when a family member is sick or in the process of dying. I have heard so many loving and funny stories of dearly departed family members. And, I have gone through the process of explaining and helping survivors say their goodbyes. I have explained the one of the many reasons we tear an article of clothing or a black ribbon after the passing, and have gone through various reasons for Sitting Shiva.

It’s odd that there are two particular customs that many who are not very familiar with our ways, seems to know about. Okay, there are actually three. The first one has to do with having some water outside the house so that hands are washed before entering. What’s going on here, are we saying that now that the person is buries, that we can wash our hands of the whole thing and wipe it out of our memory? I certainly hope not.

The second custom that everyone seems to know about is that food is served as soon as you get to the Shiva House from the Cemetery. But did you know that the food was actually to be served to the mourners. That’s right, people were to bring food to help take care of and comfort those who just went through a loss. Sadly, too often now, I go to a house of Shiva and the guests start eating without any thought to the mourner.

Why serve the mourners? Why put food on their plates? Because, as I share as just one of the reasons; taking in nourishment is a subtle way of reminding the mourners that they are not the one who died, that they are alive, and that one of the ways that we honor the memory of the deceased is to find a way to go on with life….and nourishment is the first step toward surviving with as little trauma to our physical being as possible.

So hopefully you are curious what the third custom is? Well, let’s think about it for a moment; during Shiva we are pretty much stuck in the House, we have eaten to sustain us, but we have been concentrating more on the care of our soul….we have not really moved our body, we have not exercised. Hence, when the Shiva is done, we traditionally move our body, we walk. If we are lucky enough to have someone who gets it, they might even walk beside us so that, even though our deceased loved one cannot do so, we are not alone.

We walk, we walk, usually slowly, unsteady, and unsure of what it is going to feel like to be out in the world again. But we garner the strength to put one foot in front of the other. And, as we walk, even if we feel the spirit of our loved one next to us, we realize that nothing is the same…that nothing will ever be the same. Someone who made us feel rich, someone who made us feel happy with our lot, someone who showed us love in so many different ways, is no longer with us. May the memories continue to be a source of many blessings of comfort. Enjoy the last day of Passover and may the sweet taste of chametz tomorrow night be as enjoyable!

SHABBAT SHALOM